


i think i'm caught in your wave

by wingsoutforshin (7daysoftorture)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: F/F, Sirens, Summer Romance, because i am, imagine yukiko in vintage high-waisted polka dot bikinis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7daysoftorture/pseuds/wingsoutforshin
Summary: It's the summer of 2004 and Fujimine Yukiko, freshly turned 30, is ready to spend the next three weeks of her vacation relaxing and enjoying the sun with her two best friends at her parents' beach house.The only problem? She's too reckless for her own good - and there's definitely something in the water.
Relationships: Kudou Yukiko/Vermouth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. risky encounters

**Author's Note:**

> READ FIRST!!  
> Just a heads up, in case the narration doesn't make it clear enough, but Vermouth's tail is really long. It begins like a normal siren tail but then goes on much longer than you see from usual sirens or mermaids. Also it thins as it goes on, like an eel or a sea snake. I don't know how to explain it very well but just remember this when you read her actions and such.
> 
> With that out of the way, please enjoy!

It takes them almost a full day to clean the place out and make it liveable enough for the next three weeks. Vacuuming, sweeping, washing, wiping - they pull out all the stops. Not one pillow gets left unturned in the house, except for the ones in the third guest room, which they won’t be having use for and has remained locked the entire time to keep the dust bunnies inside it from wandering off into the hallway. 

By the time they’re finally done, it’s close to 5 p.m. and Yukiko is just about ready to fall into bed and sleep until morning. 

Except she can’t, of course, because Eri is already in the kitchen making them food and Chikage is half asleep on the couch, watching some kind of documentary about jellyfish, and the last thing she wants is to wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pains because she skipped dinner. 

She walks out onto the balcony, feeling the sea breeze hit her face as soon as she steps through the glass windows. From here, she can see the edge of the beach illuminated by the moon - the rocky cliffside that always provided her the privacy she needed when she came with her family to spend the summer. She never went up to the cliff itself, but rather walked the small path under it that was made up of large boulders until she reached the isolated shingle beach on the other side. It's rare for anyone that doesn't know of it to wander there, mainly due to the lack of access from the roads and the way it remains hidden from view even from above, so it was the perfect hideout spot for when she wanted to have a moment for herself away from noisy little cousins and nagging parents and aunts. It's an unexpected nostalgia hit, and she feels something bittersweet bloom in her chest as she thinks back to those long gone days. She’s not even in contact with some of those cousins anymore, even though they used to spend all their summers together up until she was around 10 - that’s the saddening reality of growing up and apart even when it comes to your own family.

"Hey." 

She startles out of her musings and turns around to find Eri standing by the open window, her arms crossed over her chest and a soft look on her face. 

"Oh, is dinner ready?" 

"Not yet," Eri tilts her chin over her shoulder, "but Chikage’s fallen asleep." 

Yukiko laughs and pulls her light jacket tighter around her shoulders as a gust of wind blows by. "I'll wake her, don't worry." 

Eri smiles for a moment, small and fond, but then her expression turns pensive, a frown line appearing on her forehead. "He's been calling her, you know." She looks up at the sky. "I think she's trying to hide it from us but I've seen her reject his calls a couple of times." 

Yukiko purses her lips, half annoyed, half disappointed. It was somewhat to be expected, Chikage and her boyfriend have always been one of those on and off couples that always seem to come back to each other no matter how unhealthy they are. Despite not liking the guy, there's little Yukiko and Eri can say about it when Chikage's so set on making things work with him. 

It's not that he's abusive, they both seem to give as good as they get, but the way they're always at odds with each other and the instability of their relationship should've been a sign long ago that they don't work well together, and yet for some reason, neither of them is ready to accept that - it's a sort of codependency that worries Yukiko. She’s never had that sort of thing in her life, has always been the first to cut things off when the future of the relationship seemed unstable or unsure, so she doesn’t relate to what Chikage feels when she keeps falling into the same routine over and over and over again. 

Supposedly, they're broken up right now, but if he's already calling her up enough times for Eri to notice, then he's probably already ready to start groveling again for them to get back together. Yukiko is rooting for Chikage to completely cut him off this time around, though she doesn't hold much hope for that - it's a tired pattern that she's yet to see be broken. 

“Maybe she'll block his number this time,” Eri says, half-hopeful. 

“That’d be progress,” Yukiko chuckles, but she’s soon distracted from their conversation by a strange prickling sensation on the back of her neck, hairs standing up on end. 

She turns and looks out towards the ocean again, eyes squinting into the distance. There are no boats out, just the little bobbing buoys floating along with the waves. “It’s cold tonight,” she comments, heart picking up speed in her chest, unwarranted and unnerving, “let’s go back inside?”

Eri eyes her strangely, but Yukiko doesn’t allow her time to think and ushers her in, a chill running down her back as they go.

She carefully locks the window and pulls the curtains closed behind them, an urgency to her movements that Eri doesn’t raise questions to. Only once they’re back inside the safety of the house and hidden away from prying eyes does the feeling of being watched disappear. But the creeping feeling of approaching danger doesn’t leave her through the rest of the night, even as she lies in bed staring up at the stripes of light that slip through the cracks of her blinds and paint the ceiling of her bedroom white.

***

There’s nothing quite like watching firsthand as the sun slowly disappears behind the horizon, Yukiko thinks. It makes her feel, somewhat ironically considering her previous line of work, like she's inside a movie and the credits are just about to roll on a perfect afternoon. 

Unfortunately for her, she's left enjoying it alone, because apparently when Chikage and Eri said they were free to go on a retreat for a few weeks, what they really meant was that they could take some time away from the office to work from home and they'd still need to spare some time out of their relaxation to do their actual jobs. 

A bummer, is what it is. Why couldn't all her friends be retired actresses like her? Vacation would've been much more fun that way - and their beach time wouldn't have been so disappointingly cut short. What's the point of going to the beach if you can't even stay for the best part?

All of it leaves her missing their high-school days with a fervor she hasn't felt in a while. Maybe it's the fact she's just reached another decade on her life's calendar but lately she's been feeling nostalgic of her teenage years - taking the subway to school, eating lunch under the large oak tree in the courtyard, going to that one cake shop in the mall or the arcade downtown. All of those memories are filled with Chikage and Eri, the only two people who stuck around in her life all these years. She's lucky, not everyone can say they have such loyal and trustworthy friends - but still, the fact their lives have reached a point where they now only see each other every other weekend saddens her to a high degree. It's not their fault, she knows, they're all busy living their lives and they're not 15 anymore, with all the free time in the world to hang around each other's houses whenever they want. That doesn't make the sour feeling that settles in the back of her tongue whenever she thinks about it any less strong, though, and she wishes she could wash it out with soap and pretend life is as perfect as she always envisioned it would be when she first started dreaming of her future. 

The sun has finally disappeared, leaving only the fading light of the sunset to illuminate the beach side, so Yukiko stands up and slowly slips back into her sundress, careful to keep the sand from sticking to the fabric. She grabs her towel and bag, mouth twisting in displeasure, and ponders for a moment whether she's ready to head back to the house yet. The summer night chill has yet to settle in the air and this makes her reluctant to retreat indoors, despite the company most likely waiting for her there. 

Instead of walking up the path her friends took not too long ago, she starts making her way towards the cliffside, feet digging into wet sand as she moves closer to the water. 

The boulders look smaller than she remembers as she closes in on them, but then again, the last time she was here she was 10 and she actually enjoyed the way the waves hit them and spit salty droplets of water on her face - now, not so much.

She eyes the unsteady path warily and wonders if she should reconsider her decision. Back then, it never really stuck out as particularly dangerous to her, she only had eyes for the secret space on the other side that she could hide away in for as long as she wanted to; but seeing it now after so long makes her question how she managed to walk it so often back then without injuring herself even once. There's obviously moss all over the rocks, and while the tide is low enough that it doesn't reach the ones further up yet, she struggles to remember how long it usually took for it to cover them all. It's a bit of a risk, she knows, but the thought of going back now that she's here feels like defeat. 

"Okay," she says around a sigh, shaking her shoulders to try and loosen up her tense spine. 

One step, two steps, three steps. She presses her feet hard onto the mossy surface of the rock, holding onto her balance. It's not as hard as she first imagined and with a smaller body and shorter legs it's no wonder she used to walk it with little issue. One rock, two rocks, three rocks. 

She's near enough to the other side of the cliffside that she lets herself relax, which turns out to be a mistake. Out of the corner of her eye she sees movement in the water, a large shape breaking the surface for no longer than a second, but long enough to startle her into looking away from her feet. Her foot catches on the edge of something hard and pain shoots up her toes, making her stumble for a moment. One moment is enough, it seems, and she quickly finds herself slipping on the moss and stumbling down to the water covered rocks below. Her hip hits first, a burning hot sting that makes her vision whiten for a moment, and then the rest of her follows, stumbling awkwardly down until she hits the water with a splash. 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. 

She makes the mistake of gasping at the pain and suddenly all the air in her lungs is gone. She can't breathe, she can't see, and the water is cold and harsh against her battered body, making it harder for her to swim back up to the surface. Her sundress flows around her as she struggles to move upwards, her bag hanging on her shoulder like a heavy unforgiving weight. She shouldn't have come, she shouldn't have taken the chance, she should've gone back to the house and stayed the fuck inside. 

Her lungs are constricting, the lack of oxygen making her chest squeeze painfully, and she kicks her legs harder to no avail, the sea current dragging her further down rather than up. 

_ ‘Please,’  _ she thinks desperately, her body starting to lose strength, ‘ _ not like this.’ _

The last thing she feels before blacking out is the touch of soft satin against the back of her legs, and the bite of something sharp pressing onto her wrist.

***

  
  


Yukiko wakes up cold and alone, the stones of the beach floor digging into her back. Her head hurts, her throat hurts, her chest hurts,  _ her whole body hurts. _ But that’s to be expected when you almost drown, she thinks, shivering miserably against the cold air that hits her wet skin. 

The light of the sun is still illuminating the beach, though somewhat dimmer now, so it can’t have been that long since she fell in the water. Did she somehow manage to swim to the surface before she passed out? Or did she wash ashore with the waves? Her memory proves to be frustratingly uncooperative. 

She tries to sit up and gasps at the pain that blooms on her hip, eyes watering against her will. Lifting the edge of her soaking dress, she winces when she sees the purple bruise that’s already forming below and around her bikini line.  _ Fuck, _ she thinks, prodding at it and hissing when it aches down to the bone. There doesn’t seem to be anything broken, thankfully, but it still hurts enough that she doubts she’ll easily be able to walk back to the other side of the beach on her own. Her legs are also scrapped in several places, and when she lifts her arms to inspect them she sees her wrist is circled by a light red mark - a still forming bruise. She brings it closer to her face and frowns at the small half moon marks scratched into her skin. Huh.

Before Yukiko can think further on what to do, the prickling on the back of her neck from the night before comes back full force and she looks up towards the ocean, a shiver running down her body. There’s no one there, but she didn’t think there would be - if they’re watching her, they’re doing it from somewhere far away, hidden from view. It’s a scary thought but at the same time it leaves her feeling less alone, which only serves to make her doubt her current state of mind. Who takes comfort in being creepily stalked like this? 

She shakes her head, wet hair slapping her face as she does, and turns to look at her bag. It’s soaking wet, the white cloth dark and dirty, and she’s genuinely amazed at the fact that it managed to cling to her shoulder through all of the tumbling around that she did in the water. Predictably, her phone is dead when she pulls it out of one of the inner pockets - she didn’t really expect it to survive being waterlogged. Maybe it’s still salvageable if she puts it in rice when she gets back home, but that depends on how long it’ll take her to actually do so considering she doesn’t have many options on that front. Her friends will probably come looking for her if she doesn’t show up by the time dinner rolls around, but then, she didn’t tell them about this place so they wouldn’t know to come looking for her here. 

At least her necklace is intact and didn’t break during any of the impacts, she thinks, touching a finger to the misshapen strawberry pendant hanging from her neck. Despite the fact that the metal makes it seem professionally made, it’s actually a handmade piece. She still remembers with perfect clarity the day she went to make it, back when she was seventeen and read way too many books where the main characters had defining jewelry that set them apart from everyone else. She thought it would make her cooler. Well, it definitely didn’t, especially when it turned out in the shape of a pear rather than a proper strawberry, but regardless, she ended up keeping it all these years. Somewhere along the way she started attaching some kind of luck based value to it, and that kind of self made superstition is hard to get rid of even when you know it’s probably silly and pointless. Maybe she survived this because of it, maybe not. She chooses to believe in its power, as ridiculous as that is.

It’s getting cold, the winds picking up, so with a deep breath she slowly slips out of her soaked dress, feeling all the places where she’s hurt sting and burn with each rub of fabric against skin. Once she’s free of it, she places it on the stones next to her to dry out, hoping now that she’s not wearing it her body can warm up faster. She’s surprised it doesn’t appear to be ripped anywhere, just dirty and smudged with green from the moss. It’s certainly in a better shape than she is, which isn’t saying much.

A splashing noise draws her attention back to the water and she frowns, narrowing her eyes. There’s something moving below the waves, she can see its dark shape getting closer to the surface and then dipping down low enough to disappear under the turbid waters.

_ ‘What is that?’ _ She thinks, slowly moving forward on her haunches until her feet meet the sea. ‘ _ A whale?’ _

It’s big, big enough that she can’t immediately think of any other sea creature besides that. Do whales come this close to the shore? She’s no marine biologist but she’s pretty sure they’re not supposed to, at least not when they’re healthy.

Holding her breath, she watches as the shape appears again, a bluish scaly back fin breaking the surface for a moment as it moves towards the rocky path Yukiko fell off of. A strange feeling of unease fills her then, her heart starting a solo drum show in her chest,  _ thump thump thump. _ There’s something wrong, some feeling in the air telling her to run for the hills as fast as she can, but Yukiko ignores it in favor of her more consuming curiosity, eyes trained on the creature’s figure. The bluish fin surfaces one, two more times, before a long almost seven feet wide forked tail rises to replace it. It waves in the air once, almost teasingly, and then falls back to splash harshly against the water and disappears.

_ ‘What the fuck is that,’ _ Yukiko thinks almost hysterically, her feet frozen solid to the ground in shock. Is the Loch Ness monster real? Or maybe Gojira had a baby and it’s come to punish humanity for its sins against nature? Wasn’t there a script like that? Wasn’t that the plot of a movie her ex-boyfriend Tomoda-kun made her watch on one of their dates? Why did Tomoda-kun think that was a date appropriate movie? That’s precisely why she broke up with him, he didn’t know how to read the room, he was too dense and self-absorbed to know or understand her needs. Oh, Tomoda-kun, could it be he had been right when he said Gojira was real? Could Yukiko have made a mistake when she laughed in his face and told him to join everyone else here on non-fictional planet earth? Maybe she was too harsh, maybe this is her punishment. Fucking baby Gojira on her vacation beach.

When she looks down at her hands, she realizes they’re shaking - and it’s not from the cold. 

Maybe she’s letting her panic get the best of her. It’s probably just a whale she’s never seen before. Sea encyclopedias were never her favorite thing as a child, and she’s admittedly never bothered much with Discovery Channel despite Chikage’s continued obsession with it. The sea is such a big place, whatever this thing is - it’s probably harmless. 

Yes, surely, a harmless, not-whale, sea creature with a huge tail. Hah...

Despite her attempts at calming herself down and rationalizing the situation, she still ends up sitting there watching the waves for any sign of movement for what must be the following hour. It's like she's in some kind of nature documentary, waiting for the animal to show its face so she can catch it on camera and describe its behavior to the audience. 

When she stands up to stretch, she’s glad to realize that her body has decided to be her friend again and the blinding pain on her hip has lessened to more of a throbbing, allowing her to walk with barely a limp to her steps. 

The lack of any reappearances by the creature leaves Yukiko feeling somewhat disappointed over her short lookout period, but the relief that floods her chest at the fact that she can now leave is stronger than that momentary feeling. She casts one last glance towards the water and then quickly stuffs her still damp dress into her equally damp bag and stalks her way towards her path to freedom. 

The tide hasn’t risen enough to cover the dry rocks at the back yet, so she cautiously climbs up until she reaches the top, mossy covered monstrosities - her newly designated mortal enemies. This time around, she takes care not to get distracted no matter how many times she’s tempted to peer over and check if the thing is still hidden away by the lower rocks leading down into the water. 

Whatever it is, it’s a mystery best left unsolved - for the sake of her ability to fall asleep at night, at the very least.

She safely reaches the other side of the beach and almost trips over herself in her rush to get to the house, all pain suddenly forgotten in favor of being as far from this place as she possibly can right now.

When she enters through the living room’s open window, she finds Eri sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. She opens her mouth as if to say something when she spots Yukiko standing there, but it shuts with an audible click when she looks at her more closely. Which, well, she probably doesn’t look her best, she admits.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Eri asks, putting the bowl aside and walking up to her with concern written all over her face. 

“I fell,” Yukiko says vaguely, feeling her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There’s no way she’s telling her what actually happened, she’d never hear the end of it.

Eri hovers by her side for a moment, hesitant, before her hand comes to rest on the small of Yukiko’s back and she gently guides her to sit on the couch. “Chikage-chan! Get the first aid kit!” She yells.

“What?!” Chikage shouts back from somewhere in the house. “Did you hurt yourself?!”

“Not me, Yuki-chan!”

There’s the sound of rustling around, muffled by the closed door, and then Chikage is coming out of the kitchen with the kit in her hands. 

“Oh, damn, that looks painful,” she winces, eyeing Yukiko’s scratches as she distractedly hands the box to Eri.

“I hit some rocks,” Yukiko says wryly.

She sits quietly as Eri starts disinfecting her wounds one by one, starting on her legs and methodically making her way up until she reaches the ones on her arms. Chikage disappears into the kitchen again when she notices the bruise on Yukiko’s hip and returns with an ice bag to help her reduce the swelling, which she takes with a grateful smile and a squeeze of her hand.

“Hey,” Eri says, pausing in her ministrations to stare at the markings around Yukiko’s wrist. “Are these nail marks?”

“What?” Yukiko lifts her hand closer to her face to inspect the half moon scratches. She frowns, turning her wrist over. “I don’t think.” She tilts her head. “Aren’t they just some weirdly shaped scratches? I’d remember if someone had grabbed me like that.”

“They look like nail marks to me,” Eri insists, a doubtful look in her eyes.

“Maybe she hit some seashells,” Chikage suggests, shifting closer on the couch. She turns to Yukiko. “Where did you even fall to get so beaten up?”

“Uh, I got caught in a wave?” She says, more of a question than an answer.

Eri stares at her, scrutinizing, her lips pulled down in displeasure. “So you  _ didn’t  _ fall?”

Hit by a sudden stroke of genius, Yukiko exclaims, “I got hit by a wave when I was going into the water and I fell and got caught in it!”

Chikage hums in sympathy and pats her on the back. “Happens to the best of us,” she says, very wisely indeed.

Eri eyes her suspiciously for a moment longer, and then seems to decide to let the matter drop for now and goes back to disinfecting her cuts. 

Yukiko lets out a small breath of relief and lets herself finally relax. Today was, how should she put it?  _ A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  _ But at least it’s mostly over.


	2. sand bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so here's the 2nd chapter

She spends the next few days avoiding the ocean, her bruised hip slowly turning from a purple stain to a faded greenish yellow. It's not like she's scared of the water - whatever it is that she saw back then hasn't shown itself again - but she thinks she deserves some time to recover from what has to be considered a quite traumatic experience. 

So she reads and she tans and she goes under their parasol when the heat gets to be too much. It's a peaceful few days, really, and it would've remained as such if not for Chikage brilliantly suggesting that they rent the one person row-boats they have at the diving shop at the far end of the beach so they can go explore around the sea stacks and caves that surround the coastal area. Predictably, Eri is reluctant at first, claiming they're not experienced enough to go out on their own like that and could very easily get lost or hurt, but Yukiko, in her baseless optimism and admittedly quick recovery from the shocking discovery that baby Gojira might be lurking around, prods at her until she eventually relents and agrees to it. 

They set out slowly, all still getting used to the rowing. The paddles are heavy and big, and for untrained people like them it takes a lot more than pure enthusiasm to get their boats moving (Yukiko decides they should invest in some upper body training in the future). They circle around the bay area for a while in order to practice, watching the beach from a distance and splashing water at each other whenever they stop to rest, but eventually, Yukiko and Chikage decide they’ve had enough adjustment for the day so they all start heading towards the sea stacks as planned. 

It takes some effort to reach the first islet, what with the sea being particularly uncooperative today, but when they’re finally close enough that its large shape casts a shadow over their small forms, Yukiko decides it was definitely worth the sweat. 

“Woah,” Chikage breathes out, echoing her exact thoughts. “That’s a huge rock, huh?”

Eri and Yukiko laugh, looking on in amusement. It’s not an inaccurate sentiment, really, but it seems like somewhat of an understatement all things considered.

They keep on, rowing further and further into the cluster of islets. The sun is hidden from them the deeper in they go, creating an almost eerie atmosphere when added to the lack of sound besides the waves hitting the rocks and their own harsh breathing. 

Yukiko is so distracted by all the different shapes around them and what each of them resembles that at some point she must take a different turn through one of the arches, effectively separating her from her friends and leading her towards a sequence of large cave entrances. She doesn’t immediately notice she’s alone, too busy trying to decide which one she wants to wander into first, but when she turns to ask her friends which route they’d rather take and she’s met with only water and the rocky walls of the boulders around her, she has a very small and completely justified moment of panic.

“Oh god,” she breathes out through her teeth, eyes wide as she desperately looks around for any sign of the other two. “Chikage-chan! Eri-chan!”

Her shouts echo all around her, and she’s just about ready to properly freak out when she hears a faint voice in the distance.

“Yuki-chan, where the hell did you go?!” It’s Eri, and she sounds positively mad, with reason. 

Yukiko feels her growing panic start to recede at the sound of her friend’s familiar voice. She takes a moment to let her erratic breathing slow down before replying.

“I think I took a wrong turn, where are you guys?!”

“We’re almost at the opening on the other side!” Chikage yells back, her voice carrying better than Eri’s. “Eri-chan says most of the paths lead outside so just backtrack and meet us there!”

“There’re some cool caves over here, though!” Yukiko shouts, her eyes straying to the openings with newfound excitement. Now that it’s clear she’s not lost or stranded, she wants to venture in even more - she’s never been inside a sea cave before, it must look like something out of a movie.

“No- Yukiko, just come meet us!” Eri yells.

“It’ll only take a minute, I just wanna get a look!” 

She ignores Eri’s continued shouting and eenie meenie miney mo’s which of the caves she wants to explore.

_ ‘The third one it is,’ _ she thinks, and quickly starts rowing towards the cave’s mouth. 

Entering it feels like stepping into a separate pocket of the universe - the water is calm, almost still, and the open ceiling up above her allows for some sunlight to peek in and shine on the dry looking sandy ground perfectly located at the end of the chamber. 

She leans forward over the edge of her boat, a smile spreading across her lips as she takes in the beautiful scenery. If her phone weren’t back home pitfully buried in rice she would’ve been able to take some amazing pictures. Her parents would probably enjoy seeing this kind of stuff. 

Now that she thinks about it, she’s pretty sure she’s seen some pictures of them in kayaks while going through their photo albums - maybe they’ve been here before? Does the shop also rent kayaks? They didn’t really stick around long enough to check the other stuff they had up for rent but maybe kayaks would’ve been easier to maneuver than these wooden rowboats. 

She’s just started thinking up a pros and cons list on wood versus plastic when abruptly, one of her paddles twists harshly to the side, the grip hitting Yukiko on the shoulder hard enough to hurt, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Ow, what the hell," she gasps, grabbing at it with one hand and rubbing her shoulder with the other. Defying all sense, the paddle struggles against her grip, moving from one side to another as if possessing a will of its own. Yukiko peers over the edge of the boat, checking for the bottom of the paddle, and lets out a choked scream when a large shadowy figure swims past underneath it, its fin hitting the paddle and rattling it once again in her hold. 

Her previous panic comes back ten times stronger, and she scrambles to row towards the distant dry sand bedding with as much speed as she can muster with her weak skinny arms. Her muscles strain under the force, the water frustratingly resistant against her movements, and more than once she accidentally lets her paddles run over the water’s surface rather than breaking through it like it’s meant to. She’s barely 6 feet away from dry land when her left paddle is suddenly pulled straight against the side of the boat, the plastic shackle holding it together creaking under the pressure and the force of it tipping the whole boat sideways. Yukiko yelps and tries to lean to the right in order to steady it, watching with wide eyes as the paddle remains sitting up straight like a rod. 

Her heart is beating fast and painful in her chest, sweat trickling down her temples, but she lets fear take a backseat for the moment as she grabs the paddle with both hands and pulls  _ hard _ . One, two, three, four, five yanks, and it remains unmoving - but on the sixth, more desperate tug, the paddle is suddenly loose under her grip, and Yukiko has little time to process what’s happening before she’s falling backwards from the force of her own movements.

She hits the water with a slap, loud and deafening in her ears, but she doesn’t go under for long before her life vest is floating her back up to the surface. She wipes her face and pushes her drenched hair off of her forehead, breathing harshly and looking around in alarm when she realizes she can’t see nor hear anything around her. 

_ Where  _ **_is_ ** _ that thing? _

Swimming for the boat is her only option now, but her fall must have been violent enough to tip it all the way over because when she looks back at it she sees that it’s capsized and uselessly bobbing along - because this situation really couldn't get any better. She kicks her legs hard behind her and swims towards it anyway, hands grasping for purchase on its slick wooden surface to try and lift herself onto its crest. It doesn’t work, her wet fingers unable to grab hold of anything without slipping, and she lets out a loud scream of frustration, feeling anger bubbling up deep in her chest.

“Leave me alone!” She yells, before hitting the boat twice in a fit of rage and kicking at it with both feet to propel herself backwards towards the sandy floor. She performs some very awkward form of backstroke, her life vest getting in the way of her swings, and very pointedly ignores the water disturbances she can feel vibrating against her back as she does so. 

If it wanted to kill her it would’ve done so already, Yukiko reasons, trying to keep her growing sense of terror and dread at bay.

She reaches the sand in little time and scrambles up the dune until she’s sitting on the dry above-surface area still illuminated by the sun. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she watches the water with careful eyes for any sign of movement. From here, it looks darker than when she saw it from the boat, which makes it harder for her to make out anything that isn’t the reflection of the sky or the cave ceiling.

"Where are you?" She whispers softly, mouth twisted into a deep frown. 

Something rattles the boat, sending it floating further away from where Yukiko is, and as her eyes narrow in on the ripples forming around it on the water she once again catches a one second glimpse of the vague shadowy figure moving in her direction.

She drags herself further in until her back is resting against the wall of the cave, life vest the only thing separating her from the sharp lines of rock jutting out. 

Surely it can’t come above water, she thinks to herself, holding her breath as if it will somehow hide her presence. This is no alligator, no hippopotamus, no - well, she doesn’t know that many scary aquatic animals that can just up and stroll out of water, but this is certainly not one of them - not with that enormous tail.

Yukiko watches with trepidation as it swims closer and closer, only the ripples in the water letting her know its location, and then, hitting the line where the sand breaks the surface, the movements stop altogether. 

She expects it to give up then and return to wherever it came from now that its hunt(?) has failed, but instead, against all odds and to her unimaginable terror, it starts rising out of the water and onto the sand, one hand in front of the other, dragging its long body up until it’s close enough that it’s breath hits the tips of Yukiko’s toes.

She stares, wide eyed, as the creature lifts its head - its very  _ human _ head, filled with long water-darkened blond hair - and spreads its lips to display a row of sharp dagger-like teeth in what must be its version of a taunting smile. It’s a woman, or half of one, at least.

“What the  _ fuck, _ ” Yukiko breathes out, with feeling, and this must amuse the creature somehow because her smile widens in size and she drags herself even closer to Yukiko, claw like nails trailing down the side of her foot like a caress.

She doesn’t know what to do, wasn’t taught how you’re supposed to react when a - what is this thing?! A mermaid?! - approaches you like you’re her next big meal and then starts caressing your foot and staring at you wondrously as if you’re the most interesting thing she’s ever seen in her life. So Yukiko does the only thing she can think of that won’t prompt the creature into, well, eating her or something, and she stares back. 

She lets her eyes roam over her body, the bare exposed skin of her back and the way it disappears into a strong looking bluish-green fish tail that goes on for what must be at least nine feet if the half surfaced caudal fin she can still see is anything to go by. Her upper body is as human as it can get - if you ignore the teeth, the thin cat-like pupils looking up at her, and the gills on each side of her neck and above her hips. 

“What are you?” Yukiko whispers, trying to be soothing - she knows she’s at this thing’s mercy, one wrong move and she’s chum. God, she’s half incredibly curious and half on the verge of crying and passing out from the pure stress. Will her friends come back to find her body parts floating around inside the cave? It’s too terrible a thought, more so when she looks at the creature and her sharp sharp teeth glint back at her.

“Don’t you know?” the creature says, (and what the fuck, she actually speaks her language?!), her voice a velvety smooth timber that sends tingles all the way down Yukiko’s spine. 

“A-a mermaid?” Yukiko asks, but that doesn’t sound right - are mermaids supposed to look this predatory, like they could kill you with one single bite to the neck?

“Ah, those are the nicer cousins,” the not-mermaid says, a glint in her eyes. “Vermouth.”

“Ve-vermouth?” Yukiko repeats, trying to discreetly inch back further against the wall behind her. She’s all for chatting with unknown talking fish creatures but some personal space would be nice, she can feel one of the thing’s bare breasts touching her shin and it’s making her hot in all the wrong ways considering the situation. 

“My name,” she drags a nail up Yukiko’s leg and pauses it right below the hem of her shorts, “you have permission to use it.”

“Oh,” Yukiko says, breath catching in her throat as two wondering fingers slip under the hem and rub softly against the flesh of her thigh, “Vermouth,” she repeats, the name rolling off her tongue like a spell.

“Yes,” Vermouth says. 

“Why were you following me?” Yukiko asks, brave for no reason other than the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the strange rush provided by the touch on her skin.

Vermouth’s gaze remains lowered, but Yukiko can hear the amusement in her voice when she says, “Well, it’s not every day someone drowns around here.” When she looks up, her pupils are wider than Yukiko remembers. 

“I didn’t drown.”

Vermouth regards her like she’s something particularly small and pitiful. “No, you didn’t.” The fingers on her thigh press harder into her skin, the bite of a claw making itself known.

_ ‘Oh,’  _ Yukiko thinks. “Oh,” she says.

She looks down at her wrist, at the now scabbed imprints Eri had claimed looked like nail marks.

“It was you?” She asks, looking up in awe. “You saved me?” All at once, the fear and dread leave her body like they’d never been there at all. This creature isn’t out to hurt her, she realizes, it never was to begin with. The only one who thought she was being hunted was her in her own little bubble of imagination.

“I can’t have those pesky human blues circling around this area getting up in my business, they scare away the prey,” Vermouth drawls, making a face at the mention of what Yukiko assumes must be marine patrol. “Not letting you drown just happened to be in my best interests.”

Yukiko wants to ask what she means by prey, but something in her tells her she’s better off not knowing. “I see,” she says instead, hesitating a moment before adding, “thank you, anyway.”

Vermouth blinks, her pupils returning to their natural slit-like shape. She looks down, lips twisting around her fangs, and then slowly retracts her hand from Yukiko’s leg, leaving a hot trail of fire behind. “I don’t need your gratitude.” 

“You still have it,” Yukiko says, finding entertainment in watching the different expressions that change Vermouth’s fey like features. 

Now that she’s not afraid she’s gonna be brutally murdered, she feels somewhat confident enough to carry the conversation herself, so she asks, “Are you alone here? Or are there more of you?”

Vermouth eyes her for a moment, as if gauging her intentions, and then says, slow and careful, “I’m the only one here but there are more of us all around the island.” 

Yukiko tries to wrap her mind around the fact that there are creatures just like this one all over Japan and somehow they’ve managed to remain under the radar, unseen. She can’t help but despair at humanity’s clear lack of investigative abilities, while simultaneously feeling glad there are still undiscovered communities out there that humans haven’t ruined with their poisonous touch.

“Isn’t it hard for you to hide?”

“No,” Vermouth says, straightforward. “Humans believe what they want to believe. Besides, we don’t often swim close to the surface.”

“You did last time,” Yukiko points out.

Vermouth tilts her head, giving her a blank look. She taps a long clawed finger to Yukiko’s necklace and says, “Because a strange human was walking on the death boulders, and then I had to stay to make sure my efforts weren’t for nothing and she died on the beach.”

“Death boulders?” 

“Humans aren’t supposed to walk on them, they keep falling off and breaking their skulls.” She scrunches up her nose. “Children’s blood tastes nasty on the water.”

Yukiko feels goosebumps rise in her arms at that. She pulls her necklace out of Vermouth’s reach and asks, “You mean kids have died there?”

“I don’t know, someone always comes to get them after they fall,” Vermouth says with a shrug, leaning back. “Aren’t human fingerlings really fragile, though? If they bleed that much they might as well be dead.”

“Head wounds bleed a lot, even when sometimes the injury isn’t that serious,” Yukiko tells her, trying to ignore the ease with which the other discusses child death. They’re different species, it makes sense she doesn’t apply the same graveness to it as humans do. 

“You’re staying in the green house,” Vermouth says, apropos of nothing.

“Huh? How did you know?”

“I saw you there. It’s always empty but the lights have been on these days.”

Yukiko thinks back to the feeling of being watched that first night, the fear and anxiety she’d taken with her to bed. Something like retrospective amusement fills her chest. “Oh.”

“It’s an ugly color, that green - like dying algae. You should change it.”

She bites down on a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do about it?”

Vermouth nods, as if taking the agreement at face value. She probably doesn’t know what kind of process it takes to repaint a whole house. 

They sit in silence for a long moment, watching each other, and then Vermouth’s tail swishes from one side to the other and she twists around to peer over her shoulder. The movement displaces the hair that had been covering her face, letting Yukiko catch a glimpse of a small fin-like ear, scaly and blueish like her tail and merging with the skin of her cheek almost seamlessly despite the different coloring and texture between them. As if noticing her attention, the ear twitches, a small little flick that must mean something to Vermouth because she turns around with an annoyed look on her face and mutters, “Your shoal is here.”

“My wha-”

Vermouth tsks at her incomprehension and slashes her tail across the water. “The little loud one and the angry mother.”

Catching on to what she means, Yukiko can’t help but let out a loud snort, a hand coming up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. “Eri-chan doesn’t have kids,” she says, in between chuckles.

Vermouth stares at her, a strange look in her eyes, and then Yukiko can finally hear her friends’ voices in the distance and her attention is momentarily drawn away towards the empty mouth of the cave, breaking whatever staring contest Vermouth was attempting to start. 

“Are you gonna let them see you?” She asks, looking from the visible length of Vermouth’s tail to her naked upper body. She’s a beautiful being, all grace and strength rolled into one - Yukiko wants nothing more than to inspect every single part of her, every inch of skin and scale. She’s never been good at holding herself back when presented with something new and shiny, it’s one of the things people keep telling her she should try to keep in check, as if pushing down a whole chunk of your own personality is as easy as all that. 

“No,” Vermouth says, eyes cutting to the side in something like disgust. She pushes up on her arms and drags herself backwards until she’s at the very edge of the dune, almost fully submerged except for her head. “Is the green house yours now?”

“It’s my parents’,” Yukiko tells her, crawling forward on her knees and leaning on her elbows so they’re face to face, “we’re staying for the summer.” She hears her friends’ voices drawing nearer. “Why? Are you curious about me?” She asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Vermouth lifts an eyebrow and slowly descends deeper into the water until only her eyes remain visible. She blows some bubbles as if to mock Yukiko for her question and then disappears under the surface just in time for Eri and Chikage to pass through the archway of the cave and come into view.

“Are you serious right now?” Eri asks, catching sight of the overturned boat and Yukiko sitting on her own personal little island. “Yuki-chan, why are you like this?”

Chikage just laughs, rowing up to one side of the boat while Eri rows up to the other so they can try and flip it the right side up. 

“Sorry, I leaned too much on one side,” Yukiko says sheepishly as a way of explanation.

Her eyes trail over the water, searching for any sign that Vermouth is still lurking around, but there’s nothing there except the ripples caused by Eri and Chikage’s bobbing boats.

“We  _ so _ need to have a talk about reckless endangerment when we get back to the house,“ Eri grunts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they met! :D


	3. learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: hardly necessary, but there will be cannibalism (between sirens) mentions in this chapter, nothing graphic or even remotely shocking tbh, it's really just a short mention

Yukiko goes on an internet deep dive the following day, looking up anything she can possibly find on mermaid legends and their supposed cousins. It doesn’t take her long to realize Vermouth meant sirens, the less friendly version of mermaids - man eating creatures that at one point were described as bird-like rather than half-fish women. She wonders, with a sort of detached curiosity, how often Vermouth feeds on humans - it’d be suspicious if people kept disappearing around these parts so she must take long intervals between each hunt. Maybe all those fishing boats that get wrecked or disappear during sea storms have more to do with the siren population of Japan than with the weather itself - she shudders just thinking about it. 

On the plus side, it seems like sirens only target men and steer clear of woman populated areas and vessels. It certainly explains why Yukiko is not currently sleeping with the fishes after such a close encounter with one. 

Chikage and Eri question her on her sudden interest in mythological creatures once, and then let the matter drop entirely when she smiles at them and tells them she’s thinking of writing a book. Possibly they don’t want to hurt her feelings by informing her that she’s not the best writer out there, but she already knows that. She remembers the time she first tried her hand at it when she was just 24 and convinced the world would love to have available a Fujimine Yukiko biography. Needless to say, it didn’t turn out very well and she was quickly distracted by the other more pressing activities in her life such as filming the movie she had been contractually obligated to complete at the time.

She reads about sirens, she surveys the water for signs of Vermouth, and she wonders when she will get to see her again. She’s stuck in this admittedly obsessive cycle for three days and a half before she finally gives up on waiting for some godly intervention and goes down into the water herself after Chikage and Eri have gone back to the house. She swims languidly far off the shore until she meets one of the red steel buoys strategically placed along the length of the beach. It’s big, much bigger than she thought it would be when she first sighted it from land and the rowing boat - it has just enough room on it that she can grab hold of one of its metal poles to pull herself up onto it and sit in the space between the rods. 

She dips her feet in the water and kicks her legs back and forth, waiting for...something. Honestly, she doesn’t really know what she’s expecting here - what if Vermouth is busy out in her little sea house (perhaps an underwater cave?) doing her little siren chores, whatever those may be (vocal lessons?). She did say she doesn’t come to the surface all that often, what are the chances that she’ll notice Yukiko sitting here waiting for some attention like a little kid. Gosh, she’s really way too bored if she’s resorted to mythical sea predators as a way of entertainment. 

She’s just started to wonder if it would be better to give up while she’s ahead and go back to the beach when something hits the buoy and makes it bob violently like a roly-poly toy. She holds onto the poles on either side of her and quickly brings her legs up to join the rest of her body on the steel surface, eyes narrowed as she watches the water. It’s hard to see anything, what with the way she’s bouncing around like she’s on her own personal amusement park carousel, but soon enough a tail comes out to greet her followed by a loud splash that, if she weren’t already wet, would’ve drenched her whole. 

Yukiko pulls her dripping bangs out of her face, glad that her hair is tied up rather than hanging heavily on her shoulders. “That was rude,” she says, voice light.

Vermouth’s head appears right before the buoy, a playful look in her eyes as she stares up at Yukiko. “Why are you sitting on the seals’ bed?”

“The what?” Yukiko asks, lowering her legs back into the water. Vermouth swims closer and wraps her arms around them, her breasts pressing firmly against Yukiko’s shins. 

“The seals like to sleep up here, they sunbathe a lot.”

“O-oh,” Yukiko says, touching a finger to the piece of peeling red paint under her thigh and trying to keep her racing heart from breaking through her ribs. For the sake of her sanity, she decides to pretend the places where their bodies touch are non-existent, a rift in the void where her skin becomes unfeeling and untouchable. “Do you like seals?”

“They’re fine.” Vermouth tilts her head, disinterested. “A little loud and too happy for my tastes, but they’re fat little things and it’s amusing to watch them swim about.” 

“They’re really cute,” Yukiko nods, shaking her leg a little and laughing when Vermouth scowls at her and digs her nails a little into the flesh of her calves, just enough to sting.

“Ouch,  _ ouch _ ,” she yelps, trying and failing to dislodge Vermouth’s arms from around her legs. “Ok, ok stop, I won’t move again.”

The nails ease up, a thumb running softly over the same area as if to soothe it. Yukiko suppresses a smile at the action - the pressure wasn’t enough to break skin, she doubts it even left a mark.

She hums to herself, staring down at Vermouth with quizzical eyes. “Have you ever talked to other humans before?” 

"Some." Vermouth gazes towards the beach, where the distant shape of a person is running along the shore. "Not many, though. You lot are hard to judge.” 

“Just women?”

Vermouth peers up at her through her pale lashes, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “Yes. We generally don’t talk to our food.”

Yukiko keeps her mouth shut at that, afraid to dive further into the subject. She doesn’t particularly want to know the hows and abouts of Vermouth’s meal hunting. It can't be anything less than gorey, unless this is all some kind of inside joke to her and she actually just eats fish, which Yukiko very strongly doubts - you don't need that many predatory features just to eat fish. 

"Hey." Vermouth releases her arms from around her legs and swims back a little, eyeing Yukiko with a look of consideration. “I don’t know your name.” 

Yukiko scoffs, ready to brush the comment off as false, but then she remembers their first encounter and pauses. That’s right, she never actually introduced herself, did she? Only Vermouth did. Yukiko was too busy being amazed at the fact this creature was peacefully chatting with her to remember something as small as first meeting manners. 

“Fujimine Yukiko.”

Vermouth blinks blankly at her for a moment. “Fujimine Yukiko,” she repeats, her voice giving it an odd velvety edge that Yukiko’s never heard on anyone’s lips before. It sends a tingle down her body all the way to the tips of her toes. “Which one is it?”

“What?” Yukiko breathes out distractedly. 

“Your name.”

She gives her a puzzled look. “All of it is.”

Vermouth shakes her head. “I know one of them is lineage, isn’t it?"

“Oh,” Yukiko says, finally understanding what she means. “Yukiko. Just call me Yukiko.”

“Yukiko,” Vermouth says again, seemingly satisfied, and then she ducks underwater to circle around the buoy two times, long tail breaking the surface like the hard back of a crocodile on a swamp. 

When she springs back up again by Yukiko’s legs, she reaches for her hand and tugs gently. “Come to the stone beach, I’ll show you my tail.”

Yukiko silently notes the way their fingers are laced together, heart fluttering strangely in her chest. "Really?" She asks. She’d been thinking of a way to ask for exactly that but she never thought Vermouth would suggest it herself first.

“It’s a great tail,” Vermouth declares, almost preening.

Yukiko looks off towards the shingle beach, gauging the distance. She could swim it with ease, but it’d still take her a few minutes to do so. “Any chance you can pull me along?”

“You can swim,” Vermouth points out, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but it’s kinda far and you’re much faster than I am,” Yukiko retorts, batting her eyes at her.

Vermouth floats pensively in place, glancing at the beach and then back up at Yukiko with pursed lips. After a few seconds, she seemingly comes to a decision and turns around, looking at Yukiko over her shoulder. “If you scratch me, I will bite your fingers off,” she says, and it doesn’t sound like she’s joking. 

Yukiko nods quickly and jumps off the buoy, wrapping both arms around Vermouth’s shoulders and pressing her head into the crook of her neck. She smells like sea salt and something Yukiko can’t quite name - winter and summer mixed together, almost intoxicating.

Catching a ride on a siren is, well, an experience, to say the least. The speed at which they break through the current is exhilarating, and Yukiko has to close her eyes against the water that splashes on her face as a result - she imagines this is somewhat what it feels like to ride on the back of a dolphin, minus the hair in her face factor. 

As fun as it is, it’s over almost as soon as it starts, and they get to the beach in just under a minute. 

Vermouth waits for her to climb off her back and then she easily swims to where the sea is at its lowest level so she can lay down belly up on the pebbles and still be half submerged in the water. Yukiko crawls after her and sits by her side, feeling the push and pull of the current against her less heavy body.

She studies Vermouth’s tail with something akin to wonder growing in her chest. This close up, the scales shine under the sun and reflect a mirage of various colors aside from blue and green - it’s gorgeous beyond belief. For a moment, she’s reminded of the fish tank her grandma used to have in her living room, all the different pretty fish that brought color to the otherwise plain decoration of the space. All of them together couldn’t compare to this, nothing possibly could - this is in a universe of its own. A separate reality where tails merge into the torsos of beautiful women with sharp teeth and turquoise eyes.

“You can touch,” Vermouth says, unprompted, and she’s looking at Yukiko with a smug little grin, chin propped up on one hand and long hair splayed out behind her on the water. Yukiko can still see her bare chest, proudly displayed for the world to see, and for a wild moment she thinks she’s referring to that before she realizes that she clearly means her tail. 

“O-oh.” She lifts a tentative hand, pausing just above the place where skin meets scales. “Are you sure?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

Yukiko nods, swallowing around the sudden dryness in her throat. She lets her fingers brush gently against the bridge between both halves of Vermouth’s body, an uneven line where faded scales slowly turn darker and harsher the lower they go. It feels smooth and slippery to the touch, yet also strong and solid, like it could take a hit and come away with barely a scratch. She lets her fingers slide down the length of it that’s within reach and then up again, down and up, a slow and careful motion that thrills her in an unexpected way. 

Vermouth twitches slightly, pushing herself up so she can lean closer, and the sudden movement startles Yukiko, who immediately retracts her hand and looks up at her in alarm. 

“Was it uncomfortable?” She asks.

“No,” Vermouth replies blankly, staring down at her hovering hand as if trying to force it back onto her tail by sheer force of will. 

Yukiko hesitantly places her hand back where it was and watches in amusement as Vermouth seems to relax under her touch. “You like it?”

“It’s barely a tickle.”

“Huh.” Yukiko looks down at her own fingers, trailing slowly over the scales. She continues her exploration, rubbing down and around the tail to where it sits underwater against the pebbles of the beach floor - predictably, the backside is harder than the underside, not accounting for the fin there. “I thought fish liked to be petted,” she says, conversationally. “I saw a video on it once, divers were petting sharks and dolphins and all that and they really seemed to enjoy it.”

Vermouth makes a small noise of affront and grabs Yukiko’s wrist, pulling her hand off of her. “I’m no fish,” she says, glare breaking through her carefully crafted facade.

Yukiko giggles and lets her hand hang limply in Vermouth’s grip. “Sorry, didn’t know that’d be an offensive comparison.”

“You don’t see me comparing you to apes,” Vermouth remarks, mouth twisting with displeasure.

“I didn’t even know you knew what apes were.”

Vermouth looks at her like she’s just insulted her for the second time. “I do know. I know a lot of things.” She releases the hold on Yukiko’s wrist. “You think all we do is stay deep underwater and swim around?”

Yukiko tilts her head. “Well, I can’t say I know much about your species at all. What with not knowing about your existence until just a while ago.” She places her hands on her lap and fiddles with her fingers, anxious. “You did say you guys didn’t surface much.”

“In  _ this  _ form,” Vermouth says pointedly, gesturing to her tail.

Yukiko sputters, confused. “What does that even  _ mean _ ?”

“We can shed our tails and grow them back at will.” She knocks on her tail with her knuckles. “Supposedly there’s human legs under here, below our spine. Not that I can feel them.”

Yukiko stares at the tail, easily picturing a pair of legs trapped under all the flesh and scales. “Supposedly?”

“Well, I’ve never done it before, but I’ve seen some who have.” She throws a strand of wet hair behind her shoulder and shrugs. “I don’t have much interest in visiting dry land but some shoals even have it as their tradition to shed their tails and visit the human world when they become of age, like a rite of passage of some sort.”

“You mean there are sirens just walking around up there?” Yukiko asks in awe, gesturing in the general direction of - anything that isn’t the beach.

“Probably.” 

“How do they hide their-” she points at her own ears and neck.

Vermouth lets out a snort and tilts her head to the side, showing off the pale long line of her neck. Yukiko watches, heat spreading down to her belly, and then her eyes widen as she sees the gills right below Vermouth’s jawline slowly close themselves up until they look like nothing more than the faded streaks of long healed scars. 

“Oh,” she says, soft and low.

Vermouth touches a hand to her own pointy ears and says, “I think they just wear a lot of hats to cover these up. And even if someone saw them, I doubt they’d immediately assume sirens.”

Which, yeah, Yukiko has to give her that. Most humans would probably think it was some kind of genetic mutation or fungus growing out of a perfectly normal human ear. 

“Have you really never wanted to go out there and explore?” She asks, feeling strangely disappointed at the idea. And not in a jealous  _ ‘if i had the chance to know both the earth and the ocean I wouldn’t hesitate a second’  _ way, which just makes it all the more confusing to her.

“Well,” Vermouth looks at her for a long moment and then turns away towards the cliff behind them. “Nothing ever felt compelling enough.” She picks up a pebble and twirls it around in her hand, expression suddenly downcast. Yukiko watches in silence as she throws it off into the ocean and it hits the water with an audible  _ «plop»,  _ disappearing below the ripples. She wonders if a human being can sink as fast as a stone underwater - if  _ she _ would’ve, that day, had Vermouth not come to her rescue. 

She’s thought about it before, but it remains a mystery to her why Vermouth seems so strangely interested in her. She doesn’t seem to care about Chikage or Eri, even though she’s had plenty of opportunities to make herself known to them in the days since they’ve come here. From the beginning, she was only following Yukiko, and Yukiko still has no idea what about her could have possibly piqued the interest of a sea predator. She’s just a human, a very mundane one to boot. All she did was trip and almost drown, which Vermouth very obviously thought was foolish and clumsy of her, so that certainly isn’t cause for all the attention she’s getting right now.

Yukiko’s own interest is justified. She’s never met a siren before, didn’t even know they existed until now. To her, Vermouth represents a whole unexplored world out there, hidden away from humanity, intact and elusive. Vermouth is living proof that all they know is still not even close to all there is. It’s both fascinating and exciting, and it makes her heart pound every time she stops for a second and remembers that, yes, she’s here, sitting next to a creature documented for millennia as nothing more than a myth, a sailor’s tale to justify ship wrecks and deaths at sea. How absolutely make believe. 

“Why are you by yourself?” She asks, staring at the side profile of Vermouth’s face. Even that is beautiful - it’s almost as if her whole being was crafted by angels. Maybe Yukiko should look into that later.

Vermouth shifts as if the question has startled her, and then turns to Yukiko with a raised eyebrow. “Why would you want to know?”

Which, well, she’s obviously hit a sore spot, huh. Until now the other had been nothing but forthcoming about everything. Seeing her back away from a question both makes caution and curiosity rise up in Yukiko. She’s really not all that great at self-preservation. 

“I’m just curious. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Vermouth eyes her speculatively, as if assessing her genuinity, and then sharp teeth come out for a greeting as her mouth splits into a sly smile. “I can tell you, sure.”

“Oh?”

“But I want something in return.”

Yukiko blinks at her. “Well, that’s sudden,” she comments, cocking her head. “What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Yukiko gives her a wary look. “That seems a bit unfair. I won’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“I’m not gonna ask to eat you or anything.”

Yukiko feels heat rise to her cheeks, unwanted and unexpected. She fans her face with one hand and says, “O-oh, well, I’m a woman, I didn’t think you would.”

Vermouth just keeps on looking at her, unblinking, as if she’s being particularly funny. “Do you want to know why I’m alone or did your curiosity run that shallow?”

“Ah, well,” Yukiko coughs, flustered, “okay, I’ll give you whatever it is you want. So just- tell me already.”

Vermouth lets out a breath through her nose, expression going blank. She’s quiet for a long moment, tracing patterns with her claws on her own tail, and then, when Yukiko’s just started thinking perhaps she’s changed her mind about telling her, she says, “Sirens have slightly longer lifespans than humans.”

Yukiko doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything, really, but she remains silent, watching Vermouth carefully considering her next words.

“We usually live in shoals, but even we have our laws, and those are few but they’re very set in stone.” She licks her lips, leaving them shiny and glossy. “We’re a civilized sort, we’re not savages. There’s a large range of punishments for breaking those laws, but the one that’s considered the worst among us is banishment. It means you’re kicked out of the shoal, you’re completely turned away from everyone in it.” She pauses, an inscrutable look on her face as she turns to Yukiko. “You as a human might not realize what that means, but we’re the type to hunt in groups, you see. So it’s sort of a death sentence, for most of us.” 

“You got banished from your shoal?”

Vermouth nods, looking away. “I’m over it now, it’s been years since I last saw any of them.”

“But what did you do?” Yukiko asks, leaning closer to her, curiosity burning a hole in her chest.

Vermouth lets out a small wry laugh. “I broke the top law.” And here she adopts a somewhat mocking voice, “ _ A siren must never feast on another siren.” _

“You ate one of your own?” Yukiko asks in disbelief. She didn’t get super far into her research on sirens, but she didn’t see anything about cannibalism while she was at it. 

“Yes, and no.”

“What?”

“I didn’t  _ eat _ her,” Vermouth says with an eye roll. “She just gave me her back fin and everyone knows if you eat any part of another siren’s body, especially if it’s part of their tail, you get time added to your lifespan - and I wasn’t about to look a gift seahorse in the mouth.” She sighs, leaning back on her elbows and throwing her head back, eyes closing against the sun. “That’s why the law was made in the first place, so we wouldn’t go around eating each other to add years to our lives.”

“But-” Yukiko averts her gaze, trying to keep her focus on the story, “why did she give you her fin?”

“She fell in love with some human. I don’t know, I didn’t ask much about it,” she looks at Yukiko out the corner of her eye, “you’re not supposed to do that, you see, so she had to sneak out if she wanted to escape punishment.”

“They punish you guys if you leave the shoal?”

“I’m talking about my old shoal in particular, I don’t know about other ones. You needed authorization from the elders to go up to land, but aside from that, across most shoals it’s completely taboo to mate with a human, especially a human male. They’re our prey, not our partners. Plus, even if she’d gotten authorization under false pretenses, she could only stay for a few months. Our shoal didn’t allow lifelong land commitments.”

“So you ate her fin?”

“Well, as I said, seahorse,” she shrugs, “she wasn’t gonna need it anymore, anyway. She would’ve given me the rest of her tail when it was done shedding had she not been caught before it did.”

Yukiko swallows hard at that. “They caught her?”

“Oh, not the shoal. She got caught by a group of fishermen when she was on her way to land. Normally she’d have been fine but since she was shedding at the time…”

“They killed her?”

“No, I think they wanted to keep her as some kind of freak trophy,” she says it lightly, but Yukiko can’t help but shudder at the thought. “But, well, the shoal was hunting that night so it didn’t end up being much of an issue. Except her plans came to light and she was sort of a thin skinned siren so she ended up blabbering about everything, even the fact that she gave me her fin.” She curls her lip in disgust, as if remembering the moment itself. “So yeah, we both got kicked out for the whole fin eating thing, since she was a willing participant and all, but while she got to go meet her pitiful human on land and had her little happy ending, I got stuck here on my own.”

Yukiko can’t imagine being turned away from everything you’ve ever known over something so small and inconsequential.  She tries to think of it in human terms to better understand how the situation turned out like that and, well, it’s not so hard to understand. Cannibalism isn’t outlawed in most places, but considering the sirens’ law was made due to the fact that it would most likely lead to murder, Yukiko can understand how it would be so strongly set in stone. 

God, what a strange thing to be thinking about.

“How have you survived on your own, though?” She asks. “You said that was years ago, and that you guys only hunted in groups.”

“Well, just think of me as a triple-A sort of siren,” Vermouth grins, her teeth in full display, “I’m great at hunting, even if I’m by myself.”

“O-oh,” Yukiko says, trying and failing to ignore the way her heart skips a beat and her stomach turns not unpleasantly. 

“Are you scared of me now?” Vermouth asks, leaning close enough that her breath fans over Yukiko’s ear.

“N-not at all,” Yukiko replies. If anything, she’d much rather be feeling scared than whatever this is that she’s feeling. Maybe she should’ve paid more attention to her wild obsession with vampires and werewolves when she was a teen. That probably would’ve prepared her for the heat pooling in her stomach right now and the warmth spreading all across her body.

She suppresses a shiver and turns her face away. “You said you wouldn’t eat me, so I have nothing to fear.”

“Right,” Vermouth sounds out, pulling away. She looks pleased, like the sight of Yukiko painted red and flustered is amusing to her. Because of course it is. 

“I should go,” Yukiko breathes out. “My friends must be waiting for me for dinner.”

Vermouth looks towards the setting sun. “It’s hardly dinner time.”

“I need to- I need to take a shower and get dressed and stuff. It takes time.”

“Oh,” Vermouth gives her a once over. “You look clean to me.”

“Most humans shower every day.”

Vermouth looks somewhat put out but starts dragging herself lower down the beach floor until her upper half is mostly submersed. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she says, a hint of hesitance in her voice.

Yukiko smiles, still red-faced but endeared all the same. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”   



	4. turtle dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the thing, this fic was written as a one-shot, so when i split up the chapters i didn't think much of it but now i've realized they're probably 9 rather than 6, so today you're getting 3 chapters instead of one

There’s a wooden platform that leads out to sea on the other side of the beach from where the house is at. Vermouth tells Yukiko this as they meet for the fifth time on the red buoy.

It’s around half past seven in the afternoon and the sun is halfway through dipping below the horizon line, so they don’t have much time before Yukiko is set to get home for dinner. Apparently Chikage is trying her hand at some kind of seafood that should taste like heaven on earth but can just as likely give them all food poisoning. Yukiko hopes their retreat isn’t cut short by something like that, it’d be a bit embarrassing to say the least.

“We could swim there, it’s usually deserted at this time of day,” Vermouth says, urging Yukiko to come down into the water and cling onto her back.

“I’ve seen it before, I used to play there when I was little,” Yukiko tells her, staring off at the distant almost invisible profile of the platform. “Isn’t it a little bit too out in the open though? If someone does happen to be there you’ll be seen.”

“We’ll just stay underneath it, there’re turtles there, you’ll like it.” Vermouth pulls her fully into the water, not listening for any more arguments, and Yukiko has no choice but to wrap her arms around her and get ready for the ride.

It’s funny how accustomed she’s gotten to this sort of routine after just a few days - apparently she’s been underestimating her own adaptability to things. Not only that, but her ability to grow attached to people has either become better or Vermouth is just that magnetizing, because Yukiko has become too fond of her too fast considering the fact they met, like, just under two weeks ago, and Vermouth isn’t even the same species as her, making for some weird mishaps with communication that would be funny if they didn’t leave them both very confused and sometimes upset. 

She didn’t even let her last boyfriend (Tomoda-kun, poor poor man) kiss her on the mouth before their fourth date, and yet she’s pretty sure she’s accidentally touched Vermouth’s bare breasts at least seven times now, which would’ve counted as second base had she meant to do so and had Vermouth even remotely cared that she did it. Which she doesn’t. Because sirens don’t mind boob touching, apparently - just one of those things that add to Yukiko’s continued descent into insanity.

When they reach the platform, Vermouth lets Yukiko off her back so she can grab hold of one of the metal poles that run across the wooden legs holding the whole structure up. It sits a few inches above the water, the perfect position that allows her to hold herself afloat without tiring her arms.

“Look,” Vermouth says, pointing down at something below the surface.

Yukiko strains her eyes to see through the turvy waters, and when she finally makes out the shape of a turtle’s shell she lets out a short laugh and dips her head in to get a closer look, opening her eyes against the salty water and blowing bubbles through her nose to keep her head from floating back up. It seems to be resting against one of the platform’s legs. Arms and legs tucked in but head poking out to curiously tap at the sand as if digging for something.

Vermouth appears at her side then, beautiful and shining under the sun rays that break through the water. Her hair floats golden behind her, like a halo, and Yukiko feels like she’s somehow ended up in church and met the devil under an angel’s guise. 

_ ‘Maybe I should pray when I get home _ ’, she thinks dazedly as they both surface again, Yukiko with a loud gasp for air and Vermouth with a low chuckle.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Nobody dislikes turtles,” Yukiko reasons once she’s caught her breath.

“Some humans do. They hurt them.”

Yukiko grabs onto the pole again and purses her lips. “Well, yeah. Some people are just cruel like that.”

“We don’t hurt animals,” Vermouth says, swimming closer so she can lean on the pole as well, her tail circling around Yukiko’s legs, pulling her close. 

“You really only eat men?”

“They’re the only source of nutrition on the ocean that our bodies can process.”

“What about the sirens on land, what do they eat?”

“There’re more types of food on land.” Vermouth gets a thoughtful look on her face. “I think they just eat cereal and fruit.”

Yukiko lets out a disbelieving laugh. “How is that in any way similar to human meat?”

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never eaten it before. They say it’s fine.”

“Like vampires on a diet,” Yukiko mutters under her breath, amused despite the topic. “Maybe if you ever go on land you’ll find out.”

Vermouth stays silent, looking down into the water. It splashes softly against their bodies, moving them back and forth along with the tide - a pendulum stuck in place only by the pole they’re holding onto. She always goes quiet like this whenever Yukiko mentions the possibility of her going on land, like the thought is on her mind but she doesn’t dare yet speak it. Maybe there’s some story behind it, or maybe she just dislikes the general human population that much - either is very much a possibility.

“Hey,” Yukiko says, tugging Vermouth’s chin up so their eyes meet, pale turquoise on dark blue. “I’m always curious about you but I never really give you the chance to ask me about my life. Is there anything you want to know?”

Vermouth turns to look at her, pensive. She hums, as if considering what to ask, and then says, “What do you do? I know humans need jobs to sustain themselves, because of your currency and inability to hunt.”

“Some of us can hunt,” Yukiko says. “But, well, I used to be an actress. You know what that is?”

Vermouth laughs, nose wrinkling. “Yes, from movies and such, right? Some ships have really big screens on their upper floors and we can see them from the sea. I watched a shaving commercial once.” She shakes her head, lips downturned. “It was unpleasant. Why would you cut off your hair? It’s there for a purpose.”

Yukiko thinks of her own shaved legs and underarms and decides not to mention that particular detail. Vermouth doesn’t seem to grow hair anywhere aside from her face and head, she wouldn’t really care for an explanation about human society’s war against women and body hair.

“Yeah, I did some commercials but mostly movies.”

“There are a lot of TVs on the sea floor but they don’t work underwater,” Vermouth says, sounding disappointed. 

“Yeah...they need electricity for that.” Yukiko tries to look sympathetic. “Plus, water kinda breaks them.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Huh?”

“You said you used to be an actress. Why did you stop?”

“Oh, uh, just- life.” She twirls a strand of wet hair around her finger. “What I felt when I started acting at some point changed - what I used to want and what I wanted changed - and I thought, well, I have enough money to live comfortably for the next few years, possibly the rest of my life, so I should quit and do something I actually want to do.”

“And what is that?”

Yukiko smiles wryly, looking to the side. “I haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“You look like a young human, you have time,” Vermouth says, eyes on Yukiko’s face, as if uncertain whether or not her statement is correct.

“Oh, I look like a young human?” Yukiko laughs. “How old are you, exactly? You said sirens’ lifespans were different from human ones.”

Vermouth pulls her lips into a pout, thinking, and then says, “Around 60 human years? It’s not very exact. I’m 40 siren years, though. That fin gave me some extra time so I look around, well, whatever your age is.”

Yukiko stares at her, eyes wide. “You’re old.”

“No, I’m not. I said I’m 40.” Vermouth scowls

“You’re 60 in human years!”

“That hardly counts.”

“Sure it does,” Yukiko protests. “What’s your species’ average lifespan in human years?”

“Around 120 years.”

“Oh,” Yukiko says, looking down and biting her lip. “What about in siren years?”

“Around 80.”

“So wait,” she lifts up a hand, “strictly speaking, the average human lifespan is also around 80. I’m 30 so let’s say i have about 50 years left on my timer. You have about 60 years left on yours, plus whatever else the fin gave you.” She turns to Vermouth, a smile forming on her lips. “Hey, then we’re not that far apart in our life lines, actually!”

Vermouth blinks at her for a moment, thin pupils dilating. “Oh.”

“That’s kinda nice, isn’t it?” 

“It...is.”

Yukiko frowns and leans closer to her. “What’s wrong, are you sad about the looming inevitable prospect of your own death?”

Vermouth lets out a snort and pushes her face away, carefully keeping her claws away from skin. “No, I’m not upset about the inevitability of death or whatever dumb shit you just said.”

“Well, what is it then? You don’t wanna grow old with me?” Yukiko jokes, laughing to herself until she notices the way Vermouth’s cheeks are dusted a light pink and her eyes are looking anywhere but at her. Her laugh stops in her throat, sticking and forming a lump. “I mean- uh- I’m joking of course. You can’t even leave this place,” she says, trailing off awkwardly. Suddenly, the conversation doesn’t seem half as light-hearted as she thought it was.

“Yeah,” Vermouth says, almost a whisper, and then uncurls her tail from around Yukiko’s legs so she can swim a few ways away from her.

“Wait, where are you going?” Yukiko asks in alarm.

“Nowhere,” Vermouth says, and then turns brooding eyes on Yukiko. “Like you said, I can’t leave this place.”

Yukiko frowns, eyebrows dipping low over her eyes. “Hey,” she says, letting go of the pole and swimming closer to Vermouth until they’re breathing in the same air. “I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s not like you’re stuck here, you have that shedding thing you can do. You could go on land if you wanted to.”

Vermouth looks off towards the beach, expression taunt. She doesn’t appear too enthusiastic about the suggestion, despite her clear negative reaction to the implication of the opposite. “Where would I even go? Sirens always do inland visits in pairs, it’s not safe to go alone.”

“Uh, you’d come with me,” Yukiko says, feeling like it should be obvious at this point. “To my house in the city. I could show you around!” She adds, starting to get excited at the prospect. “We could go to all the tourist spots and stuff, I’d buy you all the fruit and cereal you want!”

“I don’t know any fruit or cereal to be able to want any,” Vermouth says, but her lips betray her, twitching slightly at the corner.

“Well, just, y’know, if you ever change your mind about finding land boring, remember me and my incredible supply of information and spare bedroom.”

Vermouth raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know if I’d call it incredible.”

“Hey, I know lots of stuff!”

“Sure you do,” she smirks, pulling playfully on a strand of Yukiko’s hair. 

Yukiko internally sighs in relief, glad that she’s managed to restore the happy mood. They don’t get to spend much time together, at least not in her opinion, and the last thing she wants is to ruin the little time they do have because of some thoughtless thing she said while trying to play off her accidentally spoken fantasies. Because while she had been kidding about the whole growing old together thing, there was an underlying sprinkle of truth to it that Vermouth must have caught onto, otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten so uncharacteristically and visibly embarrassed like she did. 

That’s the deal here. Yukiko needs to figure out how to reel her feelings in or this is going to end up causing a rift between them before her time is even up. 


	5. countdown

Apparently, Chikage and Eri have noticed her peculiar behavior, which is to say they saw her swim out to the buoy the other day and have been half stalking her since then to try and figure out where she’s been going when they go back to the house to work. Yukiko has to wonder what happened to all that work they had to do if they have so much free time to go following her around - it certainly can’t be getting done, that’s for sure. 

Thankfully, they either didn’t watch her long enough to notice Vermouth approach her by the buoy or they’re blinder than their official prescriptions state, because not once do they mention her rendezvous with her. From what Yukiko has gathered from their various pointed half amused comments, they seem to think the summer air has made her revert back to her teenage self who used to be all spaced out going around to places people wouldn’t usually go to just for the sake of being able to say she was there. On top of that, they are now under the impression that Yukiko is a very fast swimmer - she assumes they caught one of the times Vermouth gave her a ride - which would be funny if not for the fact that they won’t stop asking her to race them around the beach as if she’s somehow become the fish version of sonic the hedgehog. 

When she tells Vermouth this, she gets pulled into giving a lengthy explanation on who sonic the hedgehog is, which is a bit hard on account of her not actually knowing all that much about the background of the character aside from ‘runs fast, is blue’. Maybe she should’ve paid more attention when Chikage played all those pixelated sonic games back when they were in college - she used to hole herself up in their dorm room for days trying to clear certain levels, Yukiko is still surprised she managed to graduate with honors.

“-but really I think he just runs with all his little friends and eats fruit loops or something.”

“Fruit loops?”

“They’re a type of cereal, not sure you’d like them,” Yukiko says, looking at Vermouth’s curious face. She doesn’t seem like the type to have a sweet tooth. Doesn’t human meat taste like chicken or something? 

“If you brought me some I’d try them,” Vermouth says, leaning the end of her tail next to where Yukiko’s lying on the sandy dune. 

They’re back in the cave where they met for the first time, and it was actually a process to get here this time around. Yukiko had to walk to the shingle beach by herself and then they had to swim the long way around the beach so they wouldn’t be seen. The whole thing solely because now that her friends seem to be aware of her daily adventures, Yukiko is a little bit paranoid that they’ll accidentally catch sight of Vermouth and have some kind of freak out; or worse, try to intrude on their time and scare Vermouth away. Or, well, annoy Vermouth away - she doubts her friends look very scary to her.

“They’d get soggy in the water,” Yukiko reasons apologetically.

“Oh.” Vermouth is quiet for a moment, pensive, and then, looking down at Yukiko’s necklace, says, “What about that? That’s food, right?”

Yukiko picks up her pendant and smiles. “It’s a strawberry.”

Vermouth frowns. “Really? I thought they were supposed to be a different shape.”

“It’s a wonky strawberry, okay? You’re hurting its feelings.”

“It doesn’t have feelings. It’s a piece of metal.” Vermouth touches a claw to the strawberry, tracing the black little dots inked onto it. “I’d like to try one, either way.”

Yukiko hums. “I could buy some at the local grocer’s,” she says, already thinking of an excuse to give her friends for why she’s suddenly craving strawberries. It’s summer, she doesn’t even have to think much to find one. Everyone loves strawberries during summer. “And strawberries float too, so it wouldn’t sink even if I lost it while bringing it over.”

“Please don’t lose it.” Vermouth says gravely. Guess she’s now really invested in tasting some strawberries.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Yukiko laughs, letting her necklace go and dragging herself closer to where Vermouth is lying, chin propped up by one hand. 

Vermouth crosses her arms over the sand and rests her chin on them, smiling small when Yukiko mirrors her and they end up facing each other. They lie in silence for a moment, eyes locked. Vermouth’s iris’ really are such a pretty shade of turquoise, pale and clear like the water of an undisturbed lake. Yukiko wishes this moment could last forever, wishes she could lie here for all of eternity looking at her.

_ She wishes this vacation could last forever. _

And with that thought, she sobers up, feeling something harsh and ugly clamp around her heart. Because it can’t - it can’t last forever. The date for her departure is set, has been set since day one, and she’d been okay ignoring it until now but the closer it gets to the day she has to leave the harder it becomes to pretend it doesn’t dig a hole in her chest just imagining going back to Beika and her lonely apartment.

Vermouth must notice the change in her mood, because she blinks once, slowly, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Yukiko shakes her head, biting the corner of her mouth to keep her feelings from showing on her face. “Nothing.”

“Lie.” 

“It’s really nothing, just-” she looks away, down at the water lapping softly over half of Vermouth’s body, “I’m going away soon, you know. Just four more days.”

Vermouth stares, pupils thin like slits. “Four days?”

“Yeah. I told you I was here for the summer, didn’t I? For three weeks, not the actual whole season, of course.” Yukiko gives her a weak smile, trying to make light of the situation. She doesn’t feel very light herself, her heart is pounding hard against her ribcage like it wants to get out and stick itself to Vermouth’s open chest.

“I thought it was the season,” Vermouth says, sounding betrayed. She lifts herself up on her elbows and pushes back until most of her body is underwater. Her hair shadows her face, making it impossible for Yukiko to see her expression. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? This is too sudden.”

“I-” Yukiko stutters, trying to follow after her into the water. She didn’t expect this reaction. For some reason she thought they were both on the same page on this, she never thought that Vermouth had actually misunderstood her words way back then. Who even goes on vacation for the whole summer? It's just a manner of speaking, no one ever actually means the whole of it. “You knew I wasn’t gonna stay forever. I was going to leave eventually.”

“Four days,” Vermouth says, sharp and pointed.

Yukiko presses her thumb’s nail into the soft flesh of her index finger, upset. It stings, but it doesn’t make her feel any better about the situation. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. You’re not sorry. If you were sorry you’d stay.”

Yukiko opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. “My whole life is in the city, I can’t just stay here by myself.”

Vermouth’s tail splashes across the water in agitation. “You said you had money, why can’t you?”

She wonders why she couldn’t have left the conversation carry on happily from the strawberries into something else. Why did she have to think of her looming departure, why did she have to be easy enough to read that Vermouth asked about it? Why can’t she just-

“It’s not that easy, you know that.”

“Isn’t it?” Vermouth dips lower into the water, something she seems to do whenever she’s feeling particularly tense, as if pulling the whole ocean around her like an armor.

“I could- I could look into saying longer, maybe. After my friends leave. I-” Yukiko sighs, letting her head drop to the side against her own shoulder. “I don’t know. I knew this was inevitable, but I guess I’ve been avoiding thinking about it.”

Vermouth lets out a long breath through her nose, and then, stoically, says, “You’ll bring me the strawberry still?”

Yukiko stares. Vermouth’s face is inscrutable, lips pressed together and eyelids half lowered over her eyes. She’s pushed her out completely, locked Yukiko out of everything she’s feeling.

“Y-yeah, of course. I’ll still bring you the strawberry.”

“Fine,” Vermouth says, final and hard, and then she goes fully under, disappearing below the surface, tail and all.

Yukiko sits there, half in shock, half panicked. 

_ Has she just been left stranded? _

This isn’t the shingle beach or the buoy or even the platform on the other side of the beach, she’s way too far to swim back on her own without drowning. If she had the swimming prowess Chikage and Eri think she has she might be able to, but that’s nothing more than a delusion on their part. Real living breathing Yukiko can't swim that far. 

“Vermouth?” She calls out, voice cracking just a little. She’s scared, hands trembling in her lap and breath coming out in short stilted gasps. Her mind is still reeling with the realization that Vermouth left her. How long until the tide starts rising? Do these caves get submerged at night? 

She doesn’t want to die like this, it would be too pitiful. She hasn't even figured out what she wants to do with her life from here on out. She hasn't even told Vermouth she-

A tail rises up from the water right ahead of her, halting her thoughts in an instant, and she doesn't have time to do anything other than blink stupidly at it before it hits the surface and she gets a face full of water. 

She sputters, wiping her face off with her forearm and spitting salty water out of her mouth. Her eyes sting, her nose is dripping grossly and she's pretty sure she swallowed some of that. 

“What the hell?!”

Vermouth is floating a few ways away from her, a hostile and sour look on her face. “Punishment for lying.”

“I never lied! You just misunderstood what I said!” 

“Lies,” she insists, swimming closer.

Once she's within reach, Yukiko doesn't give her time to react and lunges for her, arms circling around her neck and face burrowing against the side of her head. Vermouth’s hair is wet and smells like salt - Yukiko presses her face to it until she no longer knows where she starts and Vermouth ends. 

“What’s this? What are you doing?” Vermouth asks, hands coming up to rest on Yukiko’s hips.

“I thought you left me here, you jerk!” She sobs, and, ah, she’s crying. She hadn’t noticed she was crying.

“Are you-” Vermouth tries to move back, pull Yukiko away so she can look at her, but Yukiko presses harder into her, arms like a shackle around her neck. “Hey, I wouldn’t have left you. Never.”

“Why did you- why did you go, then?” Yukiko stutters around shaky intakes of breath. Her nose is clogged and her voice sounds nasally even to her own ears.

“I was mad.” Vermouth inhales. “Still am. I was just...clearing my head.” 

She starts rubbing soft circles across Yukiko’s back, her cold touch on Yukiko’s bare skin sending a shiver down her spine. 

She tries and fails to stop crying, small little sniffs and hiccups escaping her against her will. 

“I wasn’t leaving you here, I swear,” Vermouth whispers right against the shell of her ear, breath raising goosebumps where it touches. 

“O-okay,” Yukiko breathes out, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I-” she sniffs, a loud uncaring sound, “I believe you.”

She allows herself to be pulled back, just enough so Vermouth can finally see her face. She must be all blotchy and red, she’s never been the prettiest of criers, and the thought makes her feel embarrassed for some reason.

“Your eyes are red,” Vermouth says, eyebrows furrowed, “does it hurt? Are you hurting?”

“No,” Yukiko says, letting out a half choked laugh, “It’s just from the crying.”

“Oh,” Vermouth says, and cups Yukiko’s cheek with one hand, rubbing her thumb under her eye. “Will it go back to normal?”

“Yeah, of course,” Yukiko says, feeling her heart squeeze painfully in her chest at the gentle touch. “Do sirens not cry?”

Vermouth shakes her head. “I’ve never seen one do it. Maybe we can cry when we’re on land?”

Yukiko rubs her eyes to get rid of any last remaining tears and says, “Maybe,” because it does make sense. 

What would be the point of crying underwater? It would just become another part of the ocean, would anyone even notice it if you did? 

“Can you take me back?” She asks, once she’s finally calm enough that they can let go of each other. 

Vermouth keeps a careful hand on her hip, as if afraid that she’ll run away, and it feels a little backwards considering what just transpired but Yukiko doesn’t mind. It makes her feel warm and safe.

“Yes, I’ll take you.” A pause, long and loaded. “Sorry about all of it. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay now,” Yukiko says, covering the hand on her hip with her own. “let’s just go.”

“Alright.”


	6. a past unreached

The next day, Yukiko expects Vermouth to be at least a little bit more cautious around her on account of her crying fit, but instead, she seems to have breezed over the whole thing like it barely registered to her as something out of the ordinary. 

The crying aside, she looks to be more focused on the fact that Yukiko only has four days, today included, left to spend with her, seemingly determined to make the most of their time before it ends. Yukiko is glad about that, really - at least she doesn’t seem all that mad about their misunderstanding anymore - but being taken far enough off the coast that they stumble onto a pod of whales might be just a tad too much for her currently frayed emotional stability. 

“They won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” Vermouth reassures her, turning them around so Yukiko can catch sight of the ones swimming right behind them. 

They’ve formed a circle around the two of them, surfacing every once in a while to spit water through their blowholes. It’s a sight to see, honestly, but Yukiko can’t even enjoy it like she normally would because there’s this restless energy tingling just beneath her skin, wanting for her to do something, anything, that will somehow make-up for the fact that she’s leaving soon and might not get to see Vermouth for a long time after. 

Maybe she’s just bad at dealing with goodbyes. Or maybe she’s grown so attached that just the thought of not seeing Vermouth’s face every day makes her want to throw herself into her bed and stay there in a depressed little ball of misery for the rest of the week. Either way, she’s a bit pathetic, is what it is. At least Vermouth has turned her melancholy into something productive, like whale watching. What a sport.

“Are you guys cool with each other?” Yukiko asks, watching as Vermouth runs her tail along the back of one of the whales as it goes under.

“Yes, they’re peaceful. Plus, we’re not really part of their prey range so they have no reason to attack us.” She looks at Yukiko and raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Wanna try and pet them?”

Yukiko laughs. “God, no. The watching is enough for me, I think.”

“They really don’t bite, I promise.”

“Still,” Yukiko squeezes closer to her, circling her legs around Vermouth’s waist so it’s obvious she’s not planning on moving from there anytime soon.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Vermouth says, blowing on one of Yukiko’s half dried curls. “Chicken.”

“Please,” Yukiko lets out a chuckle, “how did you even learn what that means?”

“It’s like: pussy, scaredy cat, baby, weakling, wimp-”

“Who  _ taught  _ you that?” Yukiko cuts in, amusement filling her chest and chasing away her previous dejection.

“My childhood sitter went on land for a few years before she took care of me, she’s the one who taught me most of what I know about the human world.”

“Why would she teach you all of that?”

Vermouth goes quiet, all lightheartedness gone in an instant. She makes a pained face and then sighs. “I used to really want to go on land back then, it was all me and my friends talked about.” When she notices Yukiko’s surprised expression she smiles wryly. “We were going to wait until we reached an age where we looked like human adults and then we’d all shed our tails and come together and explore the world for however long it took us to get bored of it.” She laughs, a low unhappy sound. “Of course, then I had to go and get myself kicked out of the shoal, so that never ended up happening.” A pause. “Well, maybe they still did it without me, who knows. I can’t talk to them anymore.”

And there it is, Yukiko thinks - the baggage attached to the refusal to go on land. 

“Anyway,” Vermouth says, shaking her head slightly, “that’s why she taught me all that. She thought it would be useful to know expressions used by humans. So I’d fit in more easily.”

Yukiko tries to keep her voice steady as she asks, “Is that why you don’t want to go on land?”

“I never said I didn’t want to, I just said nothing was-” she pauses, glances at Yukiko and then at the whales, as if reordering her thoughts, “I never said that.”

“But you won’t go.”

“I…”

“Are you afraid of being disappointed? Is that it?” Yukiko asks, trying to meet her eyes.

Vermouth remains silent. Yukiko can tell she’s thinking about it, can see the way the corners of her mouth twist and the wrinkle that appears between her eyebrows and remains there like a sticker. Is she reconsidering? Or is she just reflecting on the past and solidifying her choice of staying clear of human spaces? Yukiko knows which one she’s hoping for, but there’s little she can do to sway Vermouth’s decision without feeling like she’s manipulating her.

Finally, after a long agonizing wait, Vermouth turns to her and says, “Remember when you traded me something for the reason why I was on my own?”

Befuddled at the sudden change of subject, and more than a little bit disappointed that it seems she won’t be getting any more answers today, Yukiko replies, “Yeah?”

“Well, I want that.” Vermouth lifts a finger and taps the tip of her claw against Yukiko’s necklace. 

“You want,” Yukiko looks down at the necklace and then up, then down and up again, needing double confirmation, “my strawberry charm?”

“What, you don’t want to give it to me?” Vermouth asks, lower lip jutting out into an unfamiliar pout. 

“I mean-” Yukiko touches a finger to the pendant, feeling a little saddened at the prospect of departing with it. It’s got a lot of sentimental value, is all, and she’s relied on it for a lot of things throughout the years, mainly for the sake of her mental state and continued belief that not all things in life are out to get her. But then again, she did trade something for Vermouth’s backstory, and, well, it’s  _ Vermouth _ , at this point Yukiko would give her the stars and the moon if she asked for them (and if she had in any way or form access to big floating orbs in the sky). It’s hardly a chore giving her her little old strawberry charm if that’s really what Vermouth wants from her. It even makes her feel somewhat warm and tingly inside, the thought of Vermouth having something of hers even after she leaves this place. Almost like she’s leaving a piece of her behind.

“Sure, you can have it,” Yukiko says, hands moving to the back of her neck so she can work open the clasp.

“No, wait,” Vermouth grabs one of her arms, “not now. Give it to me on the last day.”

“Oh,” Yukiko slowly lowers her hands back down to the water, “Okay, sure. On the last day. Yeah, I can do that.” 

Vermouth’s mouth twitches in amusement and she presses in closer to Yukiko, her breasts once again greeting Yukiko’s chest like an old, very much not missed friend. At least today Yukiko is wearing a full bathing suit, so they’re not touching her bare skin. Small blessings, she thinks, face hot. 

They watch the whales for a while longer, but eventually the pod goes away and they’re left alone out in the open ocean. Yukiko isn’t particularly scared of the ocean, not really, but being out at sea so far from shore does make her feel just a little bit nervous. She’s sure Vermouth knows what she’s doing, being the one who knows the waters best between the two of them, but still. There’s nothing quite like the inherent human fear of the unknown. And there’s a  _ lot _ of unknown out here, even besides sirens.

She notes the way Vermouth seems to be pondering over their next move and asks, to try and quell her growing anxiety, “Have you ever left Japan?” 

“No,” Vermouth says, eyeing her quizzically at the question. “It’s kind of a mess to go into other shoal’s territories, so even banished sirens tend to stick around close to the place their previous shoals were based at.”

Yukiko sighs, suddenly forlorn. “You could go anywhere, you know,” she says, trying to broach the previously dropped subject once again. She’s nothing if not persistent. “Anywhere in the world, ocean or land. It’s sad to see you hold yourself back like this. I think I’ve been to more places than you have, and I don’t even have a tail.”

Vermouth scowls mildly, clearly picking up on her intentions. “Isn’t that just because you were some kind of famous actress. Most people, even humans, stick to the same place all their lives.”

“I guess that’s true,” Yukiko admits, “but still. You have so many possibilities,” she trails off, hoping Vermouth will say something positive on the subject that will give her some kind of inkling onto whether she’s warming up to the idea of going on land or not.

“Whatever,” is what she gets instead - brilliantly eloquent and enlightening - followed by Vermouth pressing her face to the crook of her neck as if to hide herself away from any more questioning.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stop talking about it,” Yukiko squeaks out, feeling her whole body heat up like a hot air balloon at the contact. Will she ever get used to this? 

Vermouth lets out a soft sigh. “Thanks,” she mumbles, breath fanning over Yukiko’s collarbones and neck. 

She shivers, feeling something coil deep in her belly, spreading up and around her chest, settling right behind her breastbone. The water is so cold, but her body doesn’t seem to have gotten the message, acting like she’s just stepped out of a sauna. The difference in temperature burns on her over-sensitive skin. 

_ ‘Pathetic,’ _ she despairs to herself,  _ ‘so fucking pathetic.’ _


	7. setbacks and moving forward

Much to everyone’s despair, Chikage's ex-boyfriend shows up at the beach house at 11 o'clock in the morning the next day to declare his undying love for her and try to get her back in his good graces.

“Is he really not going to leave?” Eri says in badly veiled disgust as the three of them peer through the upstairs bedroom’s one-way window down at the concrete steps below where he’s sitting cross legged and cross armed.

Loverboy has very idiotically assumed that stationing himself by their front door is an act of romance rather than one condemned by the law, and it would be a little funny if not immensely annoying and scarily stalkerish. At least Chikage has, for the first time ever, chosen to take a stance against him and not give him the time of day, which Yukiko considers great progress in her books.

“How did he even know to come here?” Yukiko asks, turning to Chikage with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, it’s not like we were announcing it in the papers or anything,” Eri says.

Chikage looks sheepish for a moment, cheeks turning a dark pink. “Uh, I mean, we were planning this for a long time, you know. I was still together with him back then and I told him the address because he was interested in what kind of place this was.”

Eri sight loudly. “Well, can’t change that now.”

“We could pretend no one’s home,” Yukiko suggests, looking at the crown of his (probably empty of all rational thoughts) head with a mixture of pity and derision. She suddenly feels a keen understanding for why Vermouth eats men.

The other two agree to her idea, so they rush all around the house shutting any open blinds, and then turn down the sound of the tv for the desired effect of giving the house the appearance of being as empty and deserted as it was when they first came. All their haste vaguely reminds Yukiko of when she was younger, hearing the engine of her parents’ car approaching down the driveway and suddenly remembering all the tasks they’d left behind for her to do.

They wait for about half an hour before they realize their great efforts were for naught. Loverboy, damned and cursed as he is, remains sat by the front door with his chin propped in his hand and a determined little man-scowl set on his face. He doesn’t look like he has any intentions of leaving anytime soon, even though his face is red from the sun and his white shirt is drenched in sweat. Yukiko’s dislike for him reaches new unimaginable heights at the sight.

And so the waiting game begins.

Yukiko passes half of the day watching tv and playing the snake game installed on her no longer waterlogged phone while Eri and Chikage take the chance to catch up on some work. When she gets bored of that - because one can only channel surf so many times before it gets tiring, and the snake keeps hitting the corners of its own body in such frustrating ways that she’s almost thrown her phone into the wall at least five times - she pulls out a drawing pad and some pencils from one of the old toy chests in the house and tries to draw Vermouth. 

She’s never been much of an artist, but she gives it a good try for a few minutes before the wooden torso and grotesquely shaped potato arms become too much for her sensibilities and she has to admit failure for fear of unintentionally offending Vermouth. 

With that endeavor thoroughly crashed and burned, she decides to drag both Eri and Chikage away from their work and into a game of categories, which seems like a good decision and helpfully winds up eating up at least two hours of their day.

It’s nearing 7 p.m. when Eri goes to look through the peephole, as they’ve been doing all day in a sort of military rotation fashion (ridiculous!), and exclaims, “Guys, I think he’s left!”

Yukiko and Chikage clamber up from their seats and join her at the door, each taking a turn to look outside to confirm that he is, in fact, gone.

“Oh my god, finally,” Yukiko says, letting out a loud breath of exasperation. “I thought he’d end up camping out there through the night or something.”

Chikage lets out an airy laugh. “He’s not _that_ persistent,” she says, which earns her twin looks of disbelief.

“He literally sat out in the sun all day long waiting for you to come home.”

“That is, if he didn’t somehow realize we were in here and was waiting for you to go outside!”

Yukiko puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a serious look, “You need to get better taste in men.”

Eri nods, arms crossed over her chest like a disapproving father. “No more guys with stalker tendencies, this is an intervention.”

"Okay, okay," Chikage says, lighthearted, and Yukiko suspects she's not taking them seriously at all, but well, lost causes and all that. 

Since it's almost 7 p.m., Eri and Chikage say it's pointless to go down to the beach so late in the day and decide instead to start up on dinner. 

Yukiko, who as opposed to them actually had plans and can’t ignore them just because some man decided to ruin their day out of some misguided sense of affection, sits on the couch for all of ten minutes before she drives herself a little crazy and goes upstairs to slip on her bikini and a pair of shorts along with a thin summer jacket. 

She goes into the kitchen to grab the little packet of strawberries she managed to buy yesterday before coming home and pointedly ignores Eri and Chikage's curious looks. 

As she's leaving the house, she hears Eri call out for her to be back by at least a quarter to eight for dinner, so she shouts back an affirmative before closing the door behind her and racing down the path leading down to the beach. 

When she reaches the sea line, she wades in until the water’s all the way up to her knees, cold and uncomfortable on her indoor warmed skin, and whispers into the afternoon, “Vermouth! I’ve got your strawberry!” She pauses, listening for any unusual movement in the water, and then, in a slightly louder tone, “I mean, it’s strawberries, plural, but anyway, come out!”

Her cheerful declarations are greeted by nothing but silence. The beach is deserted at this point, nearing the time most people retreat into their homes to prepare for the night, and while she’s admittedly a little late to their usual meeting, what with not having been already at the beach from the start, Yukiko doesn’t think she’s late enough that Vermouth would’ve left to...wherever she goes when she’s not with Yukiko - she’s never actually gotten around to asking that particular detail. 

She walks deeper in, the water wetting her shorts as bigger waves hit her body. The buoy is distant, a red triangle shaped piece of iron bobbing along in the water, but she sees no sign of Vermouth there either when she squints at it from where she stands. 

Maybe she’s not comfortable coming out this close to shore on this side of the beach? Yukiko’s never actually met her here before, and the chances of her being sighted here in the open are much higher than their usual meeting places.

She spares one last sweeping glance across the bay area before she stalks out of the water. The tide will start rising in just a few hours, but she doesn’t have to worry about that as she leaves her jacket and shorts hanging on the little wooden steps that make up the path leading up to the house.

The strawberries come with her, box held under her arm as she walks the unsteady rocky path to the other side of the cliff once again. She’s now somewhat used to it after the many times she’s walked it so she could meet Vermouth on the other side, but knowing that today she might be alone, with no one watching out for her in case she slips and falls again, makes a little flower of fear blossom deep in her chest, thorny and poisonous. 

She tries to shake it off, focusing on her feet and the moss covered stones below them - step by step, she finally reaches the other side. 

And that’s when she sees her.

“Oh my god,” Yukiko gasps, eyes fixed on Vermouth, who’s sitting by the water’s edge, tail trailing into its depths. The upper half of her tail looks ravaged, bloody and torn instead of the usual smooth surface it usually sports. 

“Yukiko!” Vermouth says, and while her face is devoid of emotion her voice betrays her, a strange quality to it that Yukiko has never heard before. Desperation and fear. 

Vermouth moves as if to try and crawl towards her but Yukiko is faster, running to her side and dropping to her knees next to her, strawberry box forgotten on the stones behind her.

“What happened to you?! How did you get hurt?!” Yukiko asks, choked and upset, hands hovering over the red slashes, not knowing what to do. Her heart races a mile a minute, beating so hard against her rib cage it hurts to breathe.

“Yukiko,” Vermouth says again, more urgent now, and one of her hands comes up to grab at Yukiko’s left upper arm. Yukiko looks at it distractedly, too worried to really pay attention, but the sight of it gives her pause. She slowly turns to look at Vermouth’s other hand, trepidation making her breaths come out in short little gasps, and to her absolute shock it looks the same - both dripping fresh blood, a darkish red that sticks under her claws like she’s been digging her fingers into her own flesh. Because she has. She-

_She did this to herself._

“What did you do,” Yukiko whispers, gripping the hand on her arm and shaking it. It leaves a bloody handprint behind on her skin, but she hardly cares about that right now. “Why did you do this?”

Vermouth doesn’t seem to hear her at all. “Where were you?” She asks, with searching eyes. “You weren’t at the beach like usual, and the house suddenly looked like it did before you guys arrived here.” She rips her wrist out of Yukiko’s grip and pushes hard against her shoulder, the force almost enough to make her lose her balance. “Where were you? I thought you left! Why didn’t you come down to the beach? It was sunny! Why was the house like that? Where did you go?” Her voice keeps rising in volume, her pupils blown so wide the black practically swallows the turquoise. 

Yukiko shakes her head all the way through her questions, face crumpled as she tries not to cry. “We were in the house! It was just- Chikage’s boyfriend came over and we couldn’t leave, I-” she takes in a ragged breath, “Why did you do this to yourself?!”

“You- you were in the house?” Vermouth says, uncomprehending. She suddenly looks small and lost, so unlike her that Yukiko wants to pull her in and squeeze her until she’s acting normal again. “The whole time?”

“Yes!” Yukiko says, sniffing. Her eyes are wet, but she refuses to let any tears fall out. “We were just waiting him out. Waiting for him to leave.” She takes both of Vermouth’s hands gently in hers and asks, once again, “Why did you do this?”

“I-” Vermouth looks down at her tail, face contorting until it settles on a deep frustrated scowl. “I thought you left.”

“What- what does that have to do with anything? I’m going to leave either way!” Yukiko cries, not understanding anything and hating herself for it. She drops Vermouth’s hands and shakes her by the shoulders. “Why did you do this?!”

Vermouth turns back to her, face set. “I was trying to accelerate the shedding.”

“You- what? You can do that?” Yukiko asks, dumbfounded. Her hands drop limply to her side.

Vermouth looks down at her bloody tail. “Clearly not,” she says, in a revolted tone.

Yukiko blinks at her for a moment, not knowing what to say to that, and then, “Are you insane? Why would you do that just because you thought I left?” She wipes her eyes and sniffs loudly, feeling anger rise up in her chest like a fanned fire. “Hey, are you an idiot? What was your plan, exactly? Follow me on foot? You don’t even know where I live!”

Vermouth glares at her but remains quiet, clearly also seeing the flaws in her own plan. 

Yukiko takes in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She looks back at Vermouth’s tail, lips pulled into a thin line. “This looks really bad. What do we do?”

“I’ll just wait for it to shed, I guess.”

“W-what?” Yukiko sputters. This woman keeps throwing curveballs her way and expecting her to just go with it. “You’ll shed it?”

“Well, I could wait for it to heal, but you leave in two days, don’t you? It’d be a bit pointless.”

Yukiko stares at her, unsure if what she’s hearing means what she wants it to mean. “I leave in two days…” she echoes. Her fingers dig hard into the meaty flesh of her palm. “You- what will you do after you shed it?”

Vermouth turns incredulous eyes on her, as if Yukiko is being particularly obtuse. “I’ll go with you, obviously. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Yukiko blinks at her. She opens her mouth, then closes it, eyes wide, and then, after another sequence of fast blinks and a fish out of water impression, she exclaims, “It is! Yes! It is what I want!” Her chest bursts with a sudden and all encompassing happiness. She had a whole list of reasons prepared for why Vermouth should move into the city with her, but she never expected Vermouth would actually agree to it before she had to quote the whole thing out. It’s almost like something out of her dreams, except the bite of her own nails on her skin is very much real - this is very much real. “But,” she pauses, giving Vermouth a quizzical look, “I thought you didn’t want to.”

Vermouth twists her lips, fangs peeking out for a short moment before disappearing again behind them. “I changed my mind.”

“Just like that?”

“Well,” she clears her throat, eyes moving up and around as if to avoid looking at Yukiko directly, “yes, just like that.”

“Huh,” Yukiko says, and stares quietly at Vermouth’s tail again. She’s not about to pester her about it - gift seahorse or whatever it is Vermouth said last time. “How long does it take for it to shed?”

“Three to four days,” Vermouth replies, wincing when she tries to shift into a better sitting position.

Yukiko looks on worriedly. “Well, I can delay my return by that much, but me and my friends only brought one car so we’d have to make a whole bus and train commute back to the city.”

“I don’t care.”

“What about your tail, is there a chance it gets infected and compromises your legs or something like that?”

“No,” Vermouth says with an eye roll. “Stop worrying, I already kickstarted the shedding process so nothing that happens to my tail now will affect my legs.”

“How long would it take to grow it back?”

“Close to a week, maybe?” She tilts her head to one side. “It’s different for every siren, and my tail is pretty big so it would probably take a bit longer than that.” She gives Yukiko a look. “Don’t mind about that, though. I’m not gonna be growing it back while we’re in the city.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Yukiko coughs. They sit in silence for a long moment, both staring across at the ocean. Yukiko tries to savor it - she finally got the confirmation she wanted and she’s so happy she could cry, what a roller coaster of emotions. She lifts a hand to her pendant, absent-minded, and suddenly remembers, “The strawberries!”

Vermouth sends her a questioning look but Yukiko ignores her, looking around herself until she spots the box lying upside down a few ways away from where they’re sitting. She goes to grab it and returns before Vermouth can actually ask what she’s doing.

“For you,” Yukiko tells her, presenting the open box to her with an excited grin.

Vermouth looks down at it with a slightly suspicious frown, but when her eyes catch on the strawberries her whole expression rearranges itself into one of surprised delight. “Oh.” 

Yukiko shakes the box at her, urging her to take one. “C’mon, try one.”

Vermouth peers carefully into the box, seemingly choosing between the strawberries for the one she deems more adequate to be her first. She picks a small, perfectly shaped crimson colored one, and looks at Yukiko as if for confirmation before holding it up to her mouth and taking a small bite out of it.

“You’re not supposed to eat the stem, by the way,” Yukiko says, just in case.

Vermouth nods, and carefully bites her way up the little fruit until all that’s left is said stem.

Yukiko watches her chew, feeling her heart tremble nervously behind her breastbone. It’s irrational, she knows, but she can’t help but worry that if Vermouth dislikes the strawberry she’ll suddenly change her mind as quick as she did before and decide she’d rather stay in the ocean where there are no bitter fruits or Yukiko’s to ruin her days.

“I like it,” Vermouth says, lips painted a shade darker from the strawberry’s juice. 

Yukiko immediately feels herself sag with relief. “Oh, thank god,” she says, and tries not to focus too much on Vermouth’s face. Maybe if she pretends she’s not enticed by the idea of kissing her red stained mouth, the whole urge will just go away completely. 

Vermouth washes her still bloody hands on the water lapping at her sides and then grabs Yukiko by the chin and pulls her in closer. “Hey, how big is your place in the city?”

Yukiko frowns, the closeness seems a bit unnecessary for such a mundane question. “It’s an apartment, but I’d say it’s pretty big.”

“All that acting money?”

“You could say that,” Yukiko laughs. “Why? Are you worried about your future living arrangements?”

“Just- how far are we going to be sleeping?” Vermouth asks, lips pouting in a strangely deliberate way.

“Uh,” Yukiko says, eyes trained on them against her will, “Our bedrooms will be in front of each other. So, not that far.”

“I see.” Vermouth releases her chin but doesn’t pull back, seemingly watching for what Yukiko will do. 

Yukiko is too busy trying not to dip in closer to really think about the fact that she should probably lean back, so they stay stuck in that stalemate.

“Hey,” Vermouth whispers, voice low and sultry. “Why can’t I just stay in your bedroom?”

Yukiko stills, confused. “You...want to kick me out of my own bedroom?”

Vermouth lets out a sigh and gives her a deadpan look. “No, idiot. You stay in your bedroom too.”

“Oh,” Yukiko says, and then, louder and with feeling, _“Oh!”_

“Yeah,” Vermouth says, sly smile spreading across her lips. “So? Isn’t it a good idea?”

“Ah, I mean-” Yukiko swallows, feeling her body temperature rising despite the chill that’s starting to settle in the air. “I think, yes, it’s a good, yeah, a good idea.”

Vermouth lets out an amused breath through her nose and pulls away, throwing a strand of her mostly dried hair over her shoulder. “Well, that’s settled then.”

Yukiko can only stare at her. What’s settled? What did she just agree to? Sleeping in the same room? Is this some kind of siren specific preference? Vermouth did say they go on land in pairs.

She looks out at the dimming light of the sun and bites her lip, feeling conflicted. It’s almost dinner time, and that means she has to get back to the house before Eri starts thinking she got herself into some kind of trouble again

There’s not much time for her to rethink her choices right now.

“Sure, yeah. Settled.”


	8. revelations

She meets Vermouth again at the shingle beach the following day. 

Her tail looks better now that the blood has washed off and the scratches and torn skin have had some time to clot over and heal. It still looks a mess, but Vermouth seems mostly unbothered by it - Yukiko guesses sirens have a huge pain threshold, otherwise she would have a hard time swimming around with wounds like that.

“It stings when I move but that’s mostly it,” Vermouth explains, tracing the ridged edges of the slashed flesh like it’s nothing special. “Our bodies release this sort of anesthetic-like hormone when we get hurt. At least that’s what I was told when I was little.” 

“Oh, that makes sense.” Yukiko touches two fingers to Vermouth’s hand, moving it away from her cuts. “Don’t poke at it, though.”

Vermouth makes a put upon face but moves her hand away anyway. “Hey, did you tell your shoal- uh, your friends?”

“I did.”

If Yukiko’s honest, the excuse she gave Eri and Chikage for why she’s decided to stay back a few days longer was a bad one - something about her tan not being quite as she envisioned it to be just yet - but thankfully they didn’t question her much on that because, well, it  _ is _ her parents’ house, and she doesn’t exactly have any responsibilities waiting for her at home so she can technically stay here for as long as she wants. 

She’s just about to retell their conversation to Vermouth when, quite literally out of nowhere, she asks, “Do you wanna try one of my scales?”

Yukiko turns to her, horrified. “What?”

Vermouth shrugs one shoulder. “It also works on humans. Maybe you’d get some extra years.”

Yukiko stares at her for a moment, unblinking, and then says, with as much seriousness as she can possibly express through voice alone, “I’m not gonna eat one of your scales, Vermouth.”

“It was just an offer,” Vermouth says, looking like she thinks Yukiko is overreacting. She probably does. She does eat men - that  _ is _ in fact her only food source at the moment.

“A very weird one.” 

“Not that weird,” Vermouth opines, looking away as if stung.

Yukiko sighs. “Look, sorry if I offended you or something, but I really don’t wanna eat a piece of you.” At least not in any non-metaphorical way, she thinks, somewhat guiltily.

“I probably taste great,” Vermouth says, raising an eyebrow at her as if in challenge.

Yukiko takes a one second glance down at her mouth and then looks up again, feeling her face heat up against her will. 

“I’m not gonna do it!” She says, voice hoarse - because apparently her body seems to hate her now. “Just drop it, oh my god.”

Vermouth stares at her in silence, slit like pupils searching her face for something. Yukiko feels herself sweat under her scrutiny, an anxious thrill running deep under her skin and leaving goosebumps behind. What is she looking for? Can she read her as easily as Yukiko thinks she can? Can she tell what Yukiko’s thinking - what she’s been thinking for a while now?

“Or maybe,” Vermouth drawls, looking excited, pupils blown wide, “you want something different?” She inches closer to Yukiko, one of her hands coming up to push one of Yukiko’s stray curls behind her ear. “Something,” she whispers, lips mouthing the words with a strange precision, “like this?” She dips her head, stopping when she’s just a hair’s breadth away from Yukiko. “Hm? Is that it?” Her breath fans over Yukiko’s lips, leaving tingles in its wake.

“I-” Yukiko doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do. She wants this, yes, she wants it so much it’s almost painful, but what exactly are Vermouth’s intentions here? She’s never once given any indications that she reciprocates Yukiko’s feelings. At least, none that Yukiko’s noticed. “Why are you doing this-?”

Vermouth stills. “Why?” She repeats, sounding stupefied. She pulls away just enough that their eyes can meet. “Are you serious right now?”

“Just- I didn’t realize you- I thought-” Yukiko stutters awkwardly, feeling so hot she might combust.

“You didn’t realize what?” Vermouth asks. “That I want you?” She sounds incredulous, like just the idea of it is ridiculous.

“Yes,” Yukiko whines, pressing her lips together to keep her embarrassment from flowing out like a wave.  _ Want you, _ she said. Vermouth wants her. What the actual fuck.

“You’re not serious,” Vermouth says, and then, when Yukiko remains silent, continues, “No, really? Are you an idiot?” She leans back, face set in a confused scowl.

“Hey, that’s unfair. You didn’t say anything!” Yukiko whines, covering her red face with both hands, only leaving an opening for her eyes between her fingers.

“You think I’d take off into land with just any human? That I’d shed my tail just for the hell of it?” Vermouth asks, eyes widening. “I’m going because I want to be with you!”

“B-but what about your childhood plans, I thought that’s why you-”

“That was ages ago!” She sighs, pressing a palm to her forehead in exasperation. “Look, of course I wanted to go on land when I was a kid, everyone did back then. But then I got kicked out and I realized my situation didn’t allow for that so I moved on. Of course I’d like to see the human world, but that’s just like any other person wanting to travel around. I wouldn’t give up my whole lifestyle for that unless there was something else to it.” She looks at Yukiko, trying to convey something with her eyes. “You think you’re the first human to offer to take me with them?”

“I’m not?” Yukiko asks, surprised. She’d never thought about that, had always assumed she was.

“No,” Vermouth says. She shakes her hair out of her face and waves a hand in the vague direction of the ocean. “Like I told you before, you’re not the first human I’ve talked to. This one girl, a few years ago, she asked me to leave with her - she’d met other sirens on land and knew about the shedding and everything. She said she had a house by the beach, I could stay with her there and we could travel around wherever I wanted and then in exchange I’d give her some of my scales for testing. She was a scientist or something.”

“And you said no?” 

“Of course I said no. I knew her barely a week, why the hell would I leave with her?” She pauses and looks down like the next words are harder to spill out, face contorting uncomfortably and cheeks turning a pale pink. “But I know you. I like being with you. I  _ want  _ to be with you. That’s why I’m going. Not because of some childhood lost dream or whatever bullshit you’ve told yourself this is about. I just don’t want to be separated from you.”

“Oh,” Yukiko breathes out, because, well, what else is she supposed to say to that? Apparently she’s been operating under the wrong assumptions this whole time, it’s incredibly mortifying. 

“Yes,  _ oh, _ ” Vermouth says, half-mockingly.

“Then,” Yukiko murmurs, her voice tiny and shy, “is that why you asked for us to share the bedroom? It wasn’t some siren thing?”

Vermouth raises both eyebrows at her. “Uh, what kind of rituals do you think sirens have? Obviously it wasn’t a siren thing, Yukiko.”

“You were hitting on me?”

“I’d hardly call it hitting on you, I thought we were already on the same page.” Vermouth scowls down at her lap, looking unusually morose. “Apparently all this time I was just one-sidedly flirting.”

“I totally would’ve been flirting back if I’d known!” Yukiko rushes to reassure her, eyes wide and heart beating quick in her chest like a hummingbird. “We’re now on the same page, totally, for sure! We’re definitely on the same page, I swear!”

Vermouth looks at her for a long moment, as if making sure she’s telling the truth, and then her face slowly transforms, an amused smile gracing her lips and replacing the scowl. 

It’s a beautiful sight, the way her lips pull back and her eyes twinkle like she’s some kind of fairy from a magical wonderland. Yukiko wants to save it forever in a memory box so she can take it out and look at it whenever she’s feeling blue. Gosh, she’s such a sucker. 

“So we’re on the same page, huh?” Vermouth hums, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, we are!”

“Does that mean,” she carefully leans back in, a teasing glint in her eyes, “you don’t mind if I do this?”

“Not at all,” Yukiko says, breathless, feeling her chest constrict with how much she wants her closer. 

“Glad we got that all cleared up, then,” Vermouth says, and Yukiko goes to reply but suddenly Vermouth is dipping her head in and their lips are meeting in a dizzying kiss, rendering all thoughts and retorts useless on her tongue. 

She parts her lips on a sigh, feeling tingles spread all the way down to her toes, curling on the stones below them. The wet sensation of Vermouth’s mouth on hers intoxicates her senses, leaving her in a trance-like state where nothing remains but every point of contact between them and the familiar smell of winter and summer and sea salt. She wonders if Vermouth likes her smell as much as Yukiko likes Vermouth’s, wonders if it also makes heat pool at the bottom of her tummy like a volcano close to eruption. Everything feels hot - her skin, her lips, the imprints Vermouth’s hands leave behind everywhere she touches.

They pull away for half a heartbeat so Yukiko can catch her breath, half lidded eyes meeting for a precious second of intensity, and then their lips are melting together once again, chests pressing closer and hands traveling across each other’s bodies without restraint. 

Yukiko feels Vermouth’s fingers on the back of her bikini top, claws slipping under the fabric and tracing soft patterns on her skin - she shivers, feeling heat crawling up her back. She’s been kissed before, and it felt good then, but never like this - never with this much fervor, like the bottom will drop out of the world if they stop touching for just one second, like her insides are falling apart and coming together over and over again in a disorienting pattern. She feels like she’s choking on something, a need so deep and strong it’ll suffocate her, but Vermouth is there to catch her before she does, hands trailing down her sides and fangs pulling on Yukiko’s lower lip, soft and careful enough not to break the skin. 

Yukiko sighs into the kiss, the flutter in her chest growing faster and more prominent. She suddenly recalls what Vermouth said just a few minutes ago, about how she probably tasted great. Turns out she was right, and a thrill runs through her at the realization that she’s getting to find it out, that she might even get to do this often enough to memorize Vermouth’s taste. 

In a fit of adrenaline fueled shamelessness, she brings a finger down to Vermouth’s belly button and slowly drags it up her bare skin until it reaches the dip between her collarbones. She presses her finger into it, delighting in the gasp that brings out of her, and then runs it across the bone until she can cup the side of Vermouth’s neck and pull her deeper into the kiss, taking in a harsh breath through her nose as she does so.

There’s no telling who’s in control anymore, Yukiko doubts it even matters. All she knows is the feeling of exhilaration flooding her chest. 

She lets Vermouth push her down on her back and climb half on top of her to further the kissing. She’s heavy, a cold weight against Yukiko’s own wet body, but Yukiko supposes she’s lucky Vermouth didn’t attempt to pull her tail along with her, otherwise she’d have some crushed legs right about now.

They stay like that for a long time - mouths and hands on each other, exploring - long enough for the sun to fully disappear behind the horizon and the chill of the night to settle in the air. Long enough that the tide starts rising and they’re hit by a full wave rather than the smaller ones they’d started their afternoon with. 

Yukiko sputters, feeling her nose sting from the water that rushed up into it. She coughs, pushing Vermouth gently off of her so she can sit up and rub at her nose without feeling like the water is climbing all the way up to her brain.

“Oh my god,” she rasps out, when the burning sensation has settled enough that she finally notices the amber colored sky. “I need to go!”

Vermouth watches her with half lidded eyes, lying languidly back on her elbows and looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“Hey,” Yukiko says, snapping a finger in front of her face, “Earth to Vermouth.”

Vermouth softly slaps her hand away, rolling her eyes. “I’m here,” she says, “I’m just not the one in a rush to go home. I have all the time in the world to be here and laze around.” She throws herself back on the stone floor and spreads her arms, looking nothing short of blissed out.

“Have you never kissed someone before?” Yukiko asks, eyeing her in half amusement and half concern. “You look like you’re in some kind of drug haze.”

“Well,” Vermouth licks her lips, looking up at the sky, “I’ve kissed you.”

“And…”

“And that’s it.”

“Okaaay,” Yukiko says, feeling her chest swell with affection and some weird sense of possessiveness she didn’t think herself capable of before today. “Nice to know, I guess.”

“You’re probably gloating about it to yourself, I know it,” Vermouth hums.

“Shut up.”

“Just go back,” Vermouth snorts, “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Yukiko leans over her to drop a kiss on her lips and then gets up to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. Her back is sore, she’ll probably have contact bruises in the morning. “Ugh, next time let’s not do that on the beach filled with stones. Sand is definitely a better option.”

“Sure,” Vermouth says, pressing her lips together as if to savor that last kiss. 

Yukiko feels her cheeks heat up and looks away. “Yeah, anyway, see you then.”

She leaves Vermouth with a short wave and rushes all the way back to the house, feeling like she’s floating the whole way there. 

When she enters through the living room, Eri and Chikage are sitting in front of the tv watching some kind of criminal show and eating dinner out of cereal bowls. They turn to look at her as one and raise twin eyebrows of surprise.

“I was going to ask why you were so late, but now I don’t think I need to,” Eri says, eyes moving from Yukiko’s face down to Yukiko’s neck.

“Woah, so that’s what you’ve been doing every time we come back to the house?” Chikage asks, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. “Go get it, girl!”

Yukiko doesn’t immediately understand what they’re talking about, but she quickly figures it out when she gets to her bathroom and sees her own reflection in the mirror.

There are hickeys and bite marks trailing all the way down her neck and across her collarbones, red and purple bruises left behind by Vermouth’s mouth. How did she not realize those would leave a mark? Was she that distracted by the pleasure of Vermouth’s touch? 

Nevertheless, she’ll have to tell her to be more careful next time, the last thing she needs is her friends trying to figure out who her mysterious lover is. 


	9. end

Eri and Chikage are all packed up and ready to hit the road by 3 p.m. the next day, leaving Yukiko the rest of the afternoon to be with Vermouth, something that neither of them is used to. 

They go out to the stacks cave, because Yukiko did mean it when she said sand would be better next time. Once they’re both settled in the sun illuminated sandy dune - Yukiko sitting on it with her legs stretched, dipping into the water, and Vermouth lying belly up by her legs, tail submerged from her would-be-knees down and eyes closed - Yukiko touches a careful finger to the pallid flaky scales on her hip and watches in interest as they drop from Vermouth’s tail and land on the sand like a piece of dead skin.

“It’s really shedding, huh?”

Vermouth blinks a single eye open to peer at her, eyebrow raised. “Of course, did you think I was joking?”

“Not really, but it’s weird watching it actually happen, I guess.”

Vermouth closes her eye back up and sighs, burrowing a little into the sand as if to chase the warmth from the sun that’s been heating it up most afternoon. “It starts slow but then in the last days it goes really fast, I’ve seen it happen a lot. It’ll probably be done tomorrow” 

“And it doesn’t hurt at all?”

“No, just think of it as your hair falling, that certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“I see,” Yukiko hums, and then lies down on her back as well, staring ahead at the ceiling of the cave that surrounds the large hole through which the sun is shining. 

She wonders what Vermouth thinks they are. She must know what dating is, what with the whole story of her shoal friend running off to elope with some human man, but maybe she doesn’t think that applies to them? It feels a bit awkward to ask her about that now after having so vehemently insisted they were both on the same page yesterday - she’d probably just end up embarrassing herself again. 

Maybe things are fine as they are, she doesn’t actually need to know what Vermouth labels their relationship as long as she knows they both feel and want the same thing. They’re going to be living together, she doubts Vermouth is planning on running off on her anytime soon. 

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Vermouth says, bumping her elbow against Yukiko’s thigh.

“I’m not-” Yukiko coughs lightly and presses her lips together for a moment, considering, before saying, “Hey, why did you get interested in me in the first place? You never told me.” 

She lies in silence, waiting for an answer, and when none is forth coming she adds, “It’s just- all I did was almost drown, it isn’t all that seductive.” She looks down at Vermouth again, trying to gauge her expression from the awkward angle. “Come up here, I can’t even see your face.”

“You could just sit back up,” Vermouth points out, but drags herself up the dune anyway so they’re lying side by side. 

Yukiko looks at her expectantly, the uncontrollable smile on her lips betraying her curiosity. “So? What was it? That made you interested?”

Vermouth huffs, as if the topic is something she can’t be bothered with. “There wasn’t anything in particular, I just liked your-” she bites her lip, looking at Yukiko as if it pains her to admit the next part, “looks.”

“Oh?” Yukiko says, a teasing lilt to it. She feels her cheeks stretch with her smile. “So you thought I was pretty, is that it?”

Vermouth makes a face, as if the word bothers her.

“What, wasn’t that it?” 

“That word’s just a bit,” Vermouth looks away, eye twitching, wow she’s really bad at this, “it’s a bit of an understatement is all. Anyway,” she makes as if to look unbothered, “that’s already long past.”

“It was like, three weeks ago,” Yukiko deadpans, feeling her cheeks warm and her heart race at the thought of Vermouth following her around just because she thought she was, what? Not pretty - beautiful? That’s so cheesy, yet it makes heat travel all the way across her body. Maybe they’re both cheesy.

“Exactly,” Vermouth says, flipping her bangs out of her eyes, “ages ago.”

“Your concept of time is really weird, you know that? Shouldn’t you feel it pass slower, considering your longer lifespan, rather than faster?” Yukiko asks, amused. She shifts onto her side and runs a hand softly down Vermouth’s shoulder in a caress. “You’re just embarrassed you thought I was so lovely you had to chase me down like we were in some kind of romance movie.” She giggles, watching Vermouth turn her face away. “I think it’s cute!”

“There’s nothing cute about it,” Vermouth mutters, “I just thought you looked good enough to eat.”

“What-”

“Not in the actual sense of the word, obviously.”

“Oh,” Yukiko chokes out, immediately lifting her hand from Vermouth’s shoulder in embarrassment. Which is ridiculous, really, considering yesterday they spent hours kissing each other on the beach and next week they’ll probably be sleeping in the same bed in her apartment back in Beika. She slowly places her hand back where it was and lets out a breath through her nose, trying to calm her erratic pulse. There’s no sense in being hesitant _now_ after everything. If anything, Vermouth’s made it very clear she likes Yukiko’s touch.

They lie in silence for a while, sunbathing, Yukiko feeling the sun on the side of her face like a heated blanket. It’s nice to lie around and do nothing together for once - they’ve never had much time for that sort of thing before - but still, her brain has never been the type to give her a moment of peace, and soon enough a question rises up in her mind that begs to be answered so fervently she has no choice but to give into it and break the quiet that had settled over them.

“Do you still want my necklace?”

Vermouth must have been close to dozing off because she takes a long moment to respond, and when she does it’s to say, “Huh?”

“I asked,” Yukiko says, a fond smile on her lips and a finger fiddling with a strand of Vermouth’s hair, “if you still wanted my necklace.”

“Ah, that,” Vermouth opens her eyes and turns her head to look at her, chin rubbing against the hand Yukiko still has resting on her shoulder, “well, I guess I won’t be needing it now.”

“You won’t?”

“No.” Vermouth brushes her lips over Yukiko’s knuckles, a heated look in her eyes, “I don’t need something to remember you by. I’m going with you.”

“O-oh,” Yukiko says, “was that what you wanted it for?”

Vermouth looks at her like she’s asking a pointless question. “What else would I want it for? It’s a deformed strawberry necklace.”

Yukiko looks down at the pendant that’s half hanging on her neck half resting on the sand. “It’s not that badly shaped, it’s just a little off. There are probably a lot of strawberries out there that _do_ look like it, you just haven’t seen them. They grow in all shapes, you know.”

Vermouth makes a small noise of consideration. “There _were_ some weirdly shaped ones in the box you brought me,” she concedes.

“See!”

“But there’s probably a conventional form, isn’t there?” She continues. “And I’m gonna take a guess here and say it’s the heart shaped one my sitter told me about and not whatever shape this is.” She pokes at the pendant with one knuckle, fingers curled into her palm.

Yukiko pouts and pushes her hand away from it. “Stop insulting it just because you don’t want it anymore.”

“Well, I have something better now.” She looks up at Yukiko through her long lashes, a sultry expression on her face. “Sorry.”

Yukiko gulps, heart climbing up her throat and settling there, thumping away. “Uh, whatever. It’s fin-”

Vermouth cuts her off, abruptly rising from her reclined position to roll them both over until she’s lying on top of Yukiko, tail fitting snug between her open legs.

“Oh, wow, okay, so we’re doing this now, okay,” Yukiko stammers, the heavy weight of Vermouth on her like a spark on an inflammable object.

Vermouth smiles, fangs peeking out, and grabs both of Yukiko’s wrists to hold them above her head, pressing a shallow hole into the sand. “When I’m done shedding, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

Yukiko hears the implications behind her words, feels them like a shock to her core, electricity rolling down her spine and making her hot in all the right places. “Uh, yes, please,” she says, voice small.

She watches as Vermouth leans in slowly, teasingly, movements languid and easy - so much so that Yukiko loses her patience and lifts her head to meet her halfway, lips crashing in a heated kiss. It stings, and she tastes blood on her tongue that she isn’t sure is her own, doesn’t even care to find out at the moment because it feels too good just having Vermouth pinning her down and kissing her with a fervor that leaves her breathless and desperate for more. 

She loses herself in it, lets Vermouth take the lead rather than fighting for any kind of dominance. Her heart feels too big in her chest, her ribs constrictive against her lungs as she gasps every time they separate. There's a haze clouding her mind, making her brain fuzzy with random thoughts that jump around purposelessly - the only thing in focus are Vermouth's breasts pressing against her ribs and her mouth brushing kisses down her neck. 

"A-ah, you," Yukiko says, suddenly remembering, "you left marks yesterday." She licks her lips, tastes Vermouth on them. "My friends noticed." 

Vermouth's mouth leaves her skin just long enough to say, "That was the point."

"What?" Yukiko breathes around a soft moan. She pulls her hands out of Vermouth’s loose grip and pushes up against her shoulders until she pulls away, looking disgruntled at the interruption. "You did it on purpose?" 

"Now they know you're taken," Vermouth clarifies. "I saved you the trouble of having to tell them." 

Yukiko ponders on that for a moment, and quickly decides the strangely possessive streak doesn't bother her so much as the lack of warning. "Just tell me next time, okay? It caught me off guard, I didn't know they were there." 

Vermouth raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you feel me put them there?" 

Yukiko flushes. "I was distracted, okay?" 

"I see," a small smirk twists at the corner of her lips, "sure, I’ll tell you.” She digs a finger into one of the newly made hickeys and the sting makes Yukiko hiss. “Here: I marked you again. Not that it’s very noticeable over the ones from yesterday." 

Yukiko grabs her hand and tugs it away. "Shut up," she laughs, and pulls Vermouth down by the neck so their faces are inches away from each other. “Marking is such a weird way to say it, you sound like some dog pissing on its territory.”

Vermouth wrinkles her nose. “I do not.”

“You do.”

Instead of denying it any further, Vermouth captures her lips in another kiss - because that’s how she avoids things now, apparently. Not that Yukiko is complaining.

They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, lazing in the sun and trading kisses more often than not. By the time the tide starts rising up the dune, Yukiko is feeling both kiss drunk and sleepy from the sun. 

Vermouth swims her out of the stacks, taking longer than usual because of her shedding tail, and they stop at buoy, a safe distance away from the beach so nobody possibly walking around can spot her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Vermouth says, and the doubt from all those days ago is no longer present in her voice.

“Of course,” Yukiko grins, detaching herself from Vermouth’s back so she can swim around and face her. “Do you know how to swim with legs?” She asks, because at the rate her shedding is going, it’ll either end tomorrow or the day after.

Vermouth tilts her head. “Probably not. But it can’t be that hard, I’ve seen you do it.”

“That’s not a testament to it being easy, you know,” Yukiko laughs, hands moving up to rest on the sides of Vermouth’s neck. “Just, if your tail fully sheds when you’re underwater, will you be able to swim up to the surface?”

“I just have to kick my legs, don’t I? And it’s not like I’m going to drown.” Vermouth rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well,” Yukiko sighs, “if you’re that confident about it, then I’ll trust you.” She leans in and drops a soft kiss on Vermouth’s lips, and then another, and another. She gets a bit carried away with it, going over her cheeks and chin and then back to her mouth, melting into it like she didn’t just spend a whole afternoon doing this very same thing.

Vermouth opens her mouth as if to deepen the kiss, clearly just as eager, but Yukiko catches herself at the last moment and moves away before she can, letting out a soft chuckle. At this rate she’ll never leave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes,” Vermouth licks her lips, blinking slowly until her blown pupils are back to their natural slit-like shape. “Same time, here.”

Yukiko swims the rest of the way up to shore like she’s in a dream, tummy fluttering and tingling with butterflies. This is what a proper honeymoon phase feels like, she thinks. She’s never experienced one as exciting before.

Things will be different when it’s over, probably, or maybe it will last forever and she’ll always have this little lightning bug crawling around her chest and warming up her insides.

Either way, she's come to realize life is full of happy and sad moments, and it’s her job to appreciate the little things - like the silky image of Vermouth’s hair when she’s underwater, or the way her lips draw on a rare smile every so often, or even her perfectly shaped breasts which will thankfully be covered soon once she comes on land, unless she decides she’s not a fan of shirts, which, well, Yukiko is trying not to think about that right now. 

Out of everything, she’s just glad a siren turned out to be the thing lurking in the water that day, and not baby Gojira like she’d first thought.

This would’ve been a completely different story had that been the case.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! hope you enjoyed it guys  
> drop a kudo and a comment if you did, i appreciate those very much
> 
> you can find me on twitter at: @wingsoutforshin

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is finished. I am simply posting it in separate chapters for the sake of visibility. So please don't suggest any possible plot for future chapters because it is all already written out.


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